Nuevo Laredo

It's not too often that you come across a restaurant that truly exceeds your expectations of what is good. Today it happened. A couple of friends of mine ventured over to Chattahoochee Avenue (hoodrat hoodrat hoochie mama). Our destination: Nuevo Laredo Cantina. I had the pork tacos. They were the real deal. Frijoles. Cabbage. Plenty of salsa. Lime. All the stuff you'd desire in a sublime Mexican lunch. The portions are ginormous too. If you're in the ATL and need some Mexican, hit it up.

Test the mettle of your favorite eatery: get the pasta

I consider myself to know the difference between a good meal and one that could have been cooked by a stray cat. And in my culinary adventures, I think I've devised a litmus test to see if a restaurant is worthy of your patronage. Answer: Pasta. If you've ever wondered why you keep heading to your go-to eatery, whether it's habit, convenience, economics or whatever. Put my theory to the test. Go to TGIFs, or Chilis, or ,Lord forbid you venture to the OLIVE GARDEN*, test the pasta. If it tastes a little like pasta helper, there is a high likelihood the restaurant-in-question blows.

I suppose I had this epiphany today as I ate one of the bestest Crab Ravioli dishes ever. It was at Market Street Broiler in Salt Lake City (if you care). The sauce was perfect (I jokingly said it was sublime, but it almost was), the pasta was light, and the presentation was great. I already knew Market Street was solid, but the crab rav iced the cake.

If you're not eating at a restaurant that serves pasta, get a burrito. That's pretty good gastrono-test.

*I swore a solemn oath that I'd never go back to the OG ever again in May of 1998. I never have, and my life is so rad because of it. Olive Garden blows.