Pork Tacos with Peach Salsa and a Jicama Slaw, Cucumber Margarita
When we were first shown the street where we’d eventually move to, our realtor went on and on about a Latin American restaurant nearby with amazing views of Manhattan. That restaurant is of course Alma, which I accurately predicted would not be busy on this mildly chilly New York evening. Currently we’re somewhere in between short sleeves weather and that weekend where everyone suddenly breaks out their long black winter coats and scarves (and never goes back). You know what I mean.
J and I hadn’t been in a while, mostly due to an ongoing dispute about how frequently and why we go to Pacifico, which is I realize a different restaurant. Alma is a bit of a walk and certainly less trendy, but sometimes that’s a plus, and such was the case tonight. That probably doesn’t make any sense, but just go with me on this. Also, I never claimed to be logical.
Anyway, we both ended up ordering the same entrée, which made critiquing it much easier. I would say that the first bite of each taco was sublime, but each subsequent chomp didn’t really do it for me. The pork is abundant but lumped all at the bottom and a bit too wet. Maybe I’m just used to Western North Carolina BBQ, because I definitely prefer my pork to be drier. I mean, eating the tacos was kind of a cluster fuck, and the salsa didn’t meld (except for the first bite). I wanted to like it, though.
Oh, and the tacos are like $14 or something unreasonable like that. Pacifico is certainly not cheap, but we give it credit for having the $8 taco/burrito/quesadilla menu. That and their sangria and margaritas are A) cheaper and B) boozier.
This somehow turned into a comparison of Alma versus Pacifico, but I didn’t mean to conflate them. We’ve had many a memorable meals at Alma, and I don’t really mind the walk. Sure, the poultry slaughter place down the street doesn’t exactly sell me on the Columbia Waterfront District, and I’m pretty sure someone is raising carrier pigeons nearby, but that’s just me.
So why the picture? Rather, why not a picture? Alma sets the lights reallylow, presumably to accent the spectacular view. I wish I could blame this pile of candy, topped with Nickelodeon’s “Slime Dunk” monstrosity, on inebriation, but as I said the margarita wasn’t very boozy. I don’t know who those character are. Not Doug, that’s for sure.