I love the molcajetes served at the restaurant where the above pic was snapped. The smoking mortar, stocked with shrimp, chorizo, beef and chicken, logs of Oaxacan queso, charred nopales and wilted green onions submerged in a swamp of tomatillos laced with green chile, was the ideal Sunday dinner. The potent margarita packed a punch, too.
Can you guess where I'm eating?
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