Why doesn't Phillyist ask Phillyist what Phillyist did to beat the heat when Phillyist was growing up in Texas? (Shades of Phillyist's Multiple Personality Syndrome in bloom: The billion-petalled flower of being here....)

Funny how people in hot climates traditionally tend to eat spicy food (making their mouths burn in the midst of the milder heat all around them... making their foreheads even slicker with sweat). Scientists have proposed several theories for this, but not all of them are appetizing.

That said: I think I'm gonna celebrate the heat with some chilled pablotinis and lime-and-jalapeno vinaigrette and ancho- and chipotle- chile rubbed rare skirt steak in the cool quiet indoor air at Zocalo (which in Spanish means "pedestal" or "town square") down the street. The central plazas in Mexican cities are called Zocalos---and you know what they do there, I hope.... (it's sweet)

(One partial solution might be to renounce clothing as much as is tastefully possible---shoes and outerwear may be difficult in social settings, but underwear and socks might be easier to renounce, especially if you're wearing sandals. And oddly enough---on an extreme tangent---I found this absurdly relevant historical truth on Wikipedia:

"A zócalo is a central town square or plaza, usually located in Mexican cities. Zócalos were often the original central squares of Mesoamerican cities that were coopted by the Spanish conquerors. The term zócalo is related to the Italian zoccolo meaning pedestal or plinth. Both zócalo and zoccolo ultimately derive from the Latin soccŭlus which is a dimunitive of another noun soccus meaning a type of clog. The modern English word sock shares a reflex with zócalo, zoccolo and soccus.")

Zocalo is a terrible restaurant, nearly as terrible as your comments.

What are we doing to beat the heat? We are complaining. A lot. ;)

Completely dismissing a critically acclaimed restaurant after having eaten there exactly one time is stupid. $26 for three courses is not exorbitant. Appetizers are half price at the bar until sometime like 6:30 or 7, and they're usually substantial enough to make a dinner in themselves. They do do some things better than others. I don't care for their enchiladas at all, but their calamari veracruzana, chorizo al fuego, mole poblano, guacamole, and sikilpak (Mayan pumpkin seed deep) are all very good (as are their tortillas, which you can see them making by hand). Their flan, flourless chocolate cake, and lime empenadas are delicious, and their pablotinis---made with tequila and a soaking habanero pepper---are reason enough to go. Very good sangria too.

Penn's English department tends to hold its dinners for faculty and special guests there. Guess they must be "utterly devoid of taste-buds" (oh what a witty turn of phrase there!) too. (And if subtle flavors taste "thoroughly insipid" to you, it's silly of you to go around angrily accusing people of being "utterly devoid of taste-buds" (or rather... it is "thoroughly insipid").)

Best of Philly winner; City's Best winner; myriad positive reviews available on the internet, and more that I remember having seen but don't have the time right now to find.

"Appealing to (supposed) authority isn't a valid way to argue"? That would include your own authority as someone who (supposedly) has taste, as a supposed expert on Mexican food. Do you realize how completely idiotic you're being with this statement? Appeals to authority may not be able to absolutely "prove" anything, but the experiences of others---and especially the opinions of expert witnesses---are often the only evidence we have, and the best evidence available. Furthermore, the fact that there are other people who find X delicious when you can't taste much of anything of value in it implies---if those people are being honest---that there's something there you just haven't been able to appreciate, or that your tastebuds are inadequate to appreciate---or that you have to learn to use your concentration and your tongue to find the places of intensest pleasure (this I found with foie gras, among other things).

Here are excerpts from that "tepid" Inquirer review from seven years ago:

It is the warm, earthy aroma of toasted corn, the smell of handmade masa tortillas being turned on the griddle that signals to your nose the moment you enter: Zocalo is no pedestrian Mexican eatery.

[. . .]

Ancho peppers were stuffed with a tangy shredded-pork picadillo stew, punctuated with slivered almonds, raisins and green olives. A salpicon fish hash of diced salmon and swordfish displayed the tangy, almost Mediterranean flavors typical of Veracruz, ripe with tomatoes, capers, olives, and a distinctive tint of allspice. Deliciously creative ravioli stuffed with homemade chorizo revealed a hint of Mexican cinnamon against a spicy sweet broth of reduced orange juice and peppers.

A generous saute of woodland mushrooms tossed with creamy garlic and smoked tomato dressings made for one of the most satisfying salads I've tasted recently. And raw scallop ceviche was full of complex layers of texture and flavor, from bitter lime and orange zest to silky mashed sweet potatoes and crunchy fried corn.

Even her renditions of stock Mexican fare such as tacos are generally a cut above the pack - moist chicken is marinated in tequila, lime and musky achiote before grilling; steak fajitas gain extra zip from a rub of lime and ancho chili powder. All come with those wonderful warm rounds of soft, fresh tortillas. And despite the pretentious gesture of charging "market price" for guacamole (in our case, $7), the coarsely mashed avocado dip was truly great. We only wished that there was more.

Excellent dishes, such as the spinach enchiladas, show how smoky chipotle peppers can wield considerable heat without overwhelming the good taste of a vibrant spinach filling flecked with fresco cheese. A masa dough chalupa, fried into the shape of a canoe, cradled crawfish tossed in a creamy blush of a cocktail sauce that tingled with just the right amount of sting.

The review would more accurately be described as positive but mixed, alternately torrid and tepid---though really only one dish is criticized as "bland," and the main criticism focuses on small portion sizes for the price: thus two bells. That review's actually consonant with my own opinion of Zocalo: good, but not great (it's not on the level of Philly's very best upscale Latin restaurants, though still much better than, say, Mixto's or Lolita), with occassional duds and a number of really delicious and interesting dishes. I go there largely out of convenience, but your angry, insipid absolute dismissal of it after only eating there once is just ridiculous.

Taqueria Veracruzana specializes in tacos. That's what they're known for, that's what they're best at, and that's probably what you had there last night. They are, essentially, a taco stand---an excellent, authentic taco stand. They're also good with tamales. Zocalo currently offers neither on their dinner menu. Mexico's a large country with a complex, multifarious culture and many different regional cuisines. There's much more to Mexican food than tacos, padre.

That said---wasting my time on arguing with you has just been silly. You're not worth even the time of my boredom, and if I'm going to procrastinate by contemplating food porn or arguing about the fine points of logical analysis or exchanging witty barbs, there are much better places and interlocutors out there; and so, having come to my senses about this at least for the moment, I bid thee adios.