I stayed in a small Mono County town overnight. I wake up and it's 9 degrees outside. I drive two hours north to Carson City so that I can eat a proper breakfast.
Much of Idaho and Nevada is Basque country. Many men from France and Spain were brought here as sheepherders.
Villa Basque Cafe, Carson City
I had heard a lot of great things about this place. The restaurant is in an unassuming strip mall about a mile from downtown Carson City. As I approach the door, it looks closed. I enter the overflow annex. The large room is unoccupied, dark, and filled with empty tables and chair. I walk across the room and enter another set of doors. That is when I arrive at the restaurant proper.
The place is known for their homemade chorizos. There are reminders everywhere-- painted on the walls, in the large refrigerators for all to see, dangling from the ceiling. I order a chorizo with eggs ($9.50). It came with corn tortillas, beans, and rice. I also get jalapenos for an extra 50 cents.
The coffee was sour, kind of like the crap we drank in the 80s in those small white styrofoam cups. The chorizo was dry and gamey. The whole thing was overcooked and sloppily prepared. I am disappointed. It didn't help that I could overhear the conversation from the table behind me. The guy, a very religious chap, was lecturing his mail order bride about the value of money and the sin of wasting food. Oh, brother.
Louis' Basque Corner, Reno
The restaurant serves its meals family style on large tables. The introvert in me shudders. So when I walk in, I instinctively ask if I can eat at the bar. Of course I can.
The guys sitting next me and the bartender immediately ask in a friendly manner what I'm up to. They impulsively start ordering for me. I start with a picon punch (see the video below). They get me roast leg of lamb ($11.95), but instead of a side of Basque beans, they order tripe so that I can have a taste of another entree. The conversation flows. It was awesome.
The only thing of note about the meal itself was that the lamb was really heavy on the garlic. Though the food is definitely above average, people come here out of tradition and camaraderie. It is a really fun place. I even got to meet the French Basque owner, Louis.
They have a vulgar saying about the picon punch. Something about how having two is just right and three is too many. I think I may have had four. Woops.
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