When last we spoke I had set off on an enchilada hunt. This entailed begging Stingray to drive me—my bum leg has infantilized me to the maddening extent I must be toted like a warm six-pack—to iconical Tex-Mex dive Curra’s (the one on Oltorf). According to the sign, Curra’s is ‘the mother of all Mex.’ I don’t know about that, but it’s definitely the mother of something.
Above: my standard Curra’s order is ‘award-winning’ vegetarian enchiladas and a Dr Pepper in a giant plastic cup. The award was the blue ribbon at the annual Texas Cheese Smothering Contest. The enchiladas, filled with flaccid squash and mushrooms, are covered with approximately 38% of Wisconsin’s annual Monterrey jack harvest.
Below: There are always four stoned dudes skulking in the corner at Curra’s.