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A place where I used to go to be infatuated by this bucktoothed blonde with flared nostrils and Everest height cheekbones called Joni Anderson. It was before the world had heard those songs. Before the world knew the bucktoothed blonde who became Joni Mitchell. But she had the same look. Long straight hair. Zero make-up. Flowing skirt almost all the way down to her buffalo sandals. An embroidered peasant blouse. A lot like some San Miguel women look today. Especially if you shop at Via Organica. She was sat alone at the next table. Even more so when her hands are cupped around a steaming bowl of cafe au lait. We chatted between sets. It was one of those rare times in my life anyway where the woman made the first move. A doobie? Had this woman not seen The Gene Krupa Story? Had she not seen what it did to Sal Mineo? Had she not seen Reefer Madness? And seen how sex-crazed it made Blanche. When most of my friends drank beer, I drank beer. But when they switched to smoking pot, I smoked pot. And, thankfully, none of my friends ever discovered the joys of heroin. Especially in San Miguel. Though like almost all of my best adventures, there was, of course, a woman involved. My old friend who never ever looks old Therese was on her annual pilgrimage from Toronto. She agreed, only slightly reluctantly, to do the long trek down Canal, a feat made much more easy since she shelved her red soled shoes. We were going all the way down to where Canal becomes Calzada de la Estacion. All the way to El Pato , that home of great barbacoa, very good mixiote and awesome consome. But alas. El Pato was closed. Taking a short vacation I discovered later. What to do? Tap dance? Actually this time I was fast on my feet. And quick with an answer. What I did know about De Quen Chon or De Quien Chon as their other sign, the one just above the entrance says is that it is one of the two go-to places in San Miguel de Allende for morcilla. Morcilla or botifarro or mixuegao or boudin noir or Lancashire pud or blutwurst or marag dubh or, the two names I know it most by, black pudding or blood pudding is the royal highness of sausages though there are some…no make that many…who would say it is the illegitimate king, the bastard king. There are some who also say it is an acquired taste but I have tried to lure many a woman…and occasionally a man…into acquiring that taste and have decided, if that is true, the acquisition has to take place prior to the age of ten. Therese was no different that day at De Quen Chon. And this from a woman who might just prefer congee to bacon before the clock strikes twelve. Speaking of holes in something, De Quen Chon is a bit of a hole in the wall. A place that may have once been a garage. But I like holes in the wall. We added a couple of barbacoa tacos to accompany the consome. What could be better to wash lamb down with than lamb. And this consome was full of flavor. We gulped it down De Quen Chon is not a place where you linger. We paid the bill actually I paid the bill as Don Day is very fast to pick up minuscule checks at holes in the wall. We stood up. And then we almost sat down again. What a glow. What the hell was in that consome? I had no idea what it was. So there must have been something else. But what was it? Who knows. And not very long after, three old guys were trudging down Canal to De Quen Chon. And shortly after that I was again trying to sway two more guys towards the pleasures of morcilla and was mildly successful with one of them. And shortly after that there were three bowls of consome in front of us. We put back a few spoons and looked at the bowl. We put back a few more and looked at each other. Me, I was sure I was a little light-headed but not enough this time to skip on down to Walmart. But we did go on to Walmart. And spent what seemed like an hour trying to figure out the meaning of the painted lines on the parking lot. And went inside. And Rich bought a pair of jeans. And Peter bought two pairs of jeans. And I bought three. Your email address will not be published. Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Email Address. Contact Me. Where to get stoned in San Miguel de Allende. No one ever forgets their first time. Do they? I asked our server what was in it. Submit a Comment Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. Subscribe to Blog via Email Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Search for:. Recent Posts Celebrating those classics of French cuisine. At Salvages. A capital idea. Il Fiorino in Mexico City. A woman. A passion. A restaurant. Is this the best sandwich value in San Miguel? 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Vicente Fox’s marijuana store in San Miguel de Allende is open

Buy weed San Miguel

News Category: News and Community News. Published July 28, sp. The first store of marijuana products opened in San Miguel de Allende. Your email address will not be published. Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Sign me up for the newsletter! Places Events Local News. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Your email address will not be published.

Buy weed San Miguel