Luxembourg is one of the most boring cities/countries in the world. While beautiful, it is also chillingly damp, unsmiling, and closed for business on Sundays and Mondays. It is what I imagine a sexual encounter with Nicole Kidman would be like if she took the form of a very tiny european country. Super pretty, yet unenthusiastic and lacking in warmth and humor.
There was, however, a Chi-Chi’s Mexican restaurant in the barely beating heart of the centrally located Place De Armes. This was very surprising to me. Chi-Chi’s moved out of the North American market in 2003 due to a hepatitis outbreak that left four dead. Now, here it was again, welcomed with open arms by a population so bored, they would trade possible death for tacos.
Yet, the trademark fiesta-style lettering spoke to me, and I was stunned by a visceral nostalgia that nearly bowled me over. I’d left home shortly after high school and realised that I had been a very different person the last time I’d eaten at Chi-Chi’s. Back then, I’d believed Dave Grohl was the weakest link in Nirvana, and that it was possible to get pregnant through denim overalls.
As I took my seat, I contemplated whether the interior style was Aztec, Mayan, Pueblo, Tex-Mex or racist. The meal began with a warmed bowl of stale but fine tasting tortilla chips accompanied by a two tablespoon serving of pureed salsa in a small plastic container. While “devastated” is probably the wrong word to use in a world where three billion people live on less than £2 a day…I was inconsolable at the absence of sweet corn cake from the menu. Some solid Chi-Chi’s original plates remained, including chimichangas, beef and bean burritos, and a myriad of other oddities covered in cheese. But, alas, no sweet corn cake. The menu also boasted Tex-Mex offerings in the form of ribs, burgers and fries…which is straight-up lazy bullshit.
Overall, it was good. Solid. Chi Chi’s used to be the Mexican equivalent of Olive Garden. Now they’re more the TGIF version of Tex-Mex. Seasons change. Feelings change. Chi Chi’s has changed. Heck, I’ve changed. I no longer sexualise denim, and I’ve learned that sometimes you can’t go home. It’s just not the same.
Guacamole
- 1 medium avocado
- Pinch of chilli flakes
- big pinch of salt
- nice squeeze of lime
- 1 spring onion finely diced
- Mash and mix.
- Eat it before it turns brown, or seal it with a layer of tears for later.
- Delicious with Bugles, Capri Sun and the president of your high school rifle club.
The Lunchadora 