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| Vintage food truck. |
I've been avoiding Hola brunch. Maybe because it's too close. Too easy. Like dating your cousin. Or something... But having heard substantial raving, I decided to put on my flip flops and saunter over to the land of salsa, succulants and taco pancakes.
Hello, aqua everything. I ain't mad at that. It is somewhat of a desert oasis next to the cheap donuts and beef jerky of Super America. Some remember El Pariso, which was anything but paradise with their pre-mix margs and cheese-murdered everything. The transformation alone is worth an extra star.
We opted for inside seating vs. the no vacancy patio. (It's ALWAYS full.) The problem with sitting inside Hola is that the grease from frying arepas tends to permiate your entire being. But this morning, the air was pretty light.
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| This is what sobriety does to your morning. |
They have fresh OJ. Score one more star.
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| The beautiful people approve. |
The brunch menu, like the dinner, is Latin/South American inspired. Into it. Yuca, arepas, fried chicken, roasted meats. But, your only sweet satisfactions are the yogurt flan and the mini churros. We got some of the latter to share. Sorry, flan freaks. I have no report for you.
So our group was able to order the entire entré menu today. You get a full review. First, and probably the best: The Fried Chicken & Cachapas. If someone can explain the difference between a cachapa and an arepa, please let me know. They both look like cornmeal pancakes to me. The crispiness and flavor of this dish was so spot on. Don't forget that chipotle maple syrup, yo.
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| There's bacon in there. |
Then we'll go with my dish, the Arepa Benedict. You had me at cherry tomatoes and arugula. But the truth is ALL of these dishes are elegantly dressed with greens. There was a lot of meat on this jammer, tho. Dare I say, too much meat?
Here's the Chilaquiles. Everything's kinda buried, but I promise, it's delicious under there.
The yucca hash (vegetarian option). Pritty, pritty, pritty.
And the Tamale Ranchero, which was the least favorite dish. Tamale was dry like desert, but still wouldn't kick out of bed.
I leave you with the breast of a young woman and her mojito. Damn, it feels good to live on eat street.
