Sup CG fam!…Its been a minute. My ass was kept at bay due to a recent B&E at “Darwensi’s Nest.” A few items got-got, including my better half: the Canon SD790. But, the Allstate check came strong this weekend, so I’m back like Mortimer and Randolph Duke. One lesson learned is that extensive time off of food review is perilous. Gluttony ensues. Heed.
There is something to be said about a restaurant that a) moves across the street from its competition, b) uses essentially the same name as its competition, c) serves pretty much the same food as its competition and d) utilizes the same gaudy ass Red Lobster decor as its competition. Mariscos El Veneno really shouda named their restaurant “Los Cojones Grandes.” Instead, they went with “The Seafood Poison.” I don’t know bout yall, but this kind of name made me inquisitive. I pondered, “does the name imply that sting rays or jelly fish might be on the menu?” A bit ambitious…I know.
It was just two of us. We were planning on an extensive night of dranking, so we wanted to keep it light. Like some fish tacos, skrimps cocktail, and seafood empanadas. But then, Chef Amadeus walked over with this shit:
There was an awkward silence in the restaurant as Amadus described a master plan to prepare this 6 pound bitch. We knew what was about to pop off…a night of gluttony was about to spawn. As we gave lobster confirmation nods, all patrons turned and began to clap. It was like being transported back to my 6th Grade Science Fair project on soil erosion or State Championships at da Boy Scouts Pinewood Derby. Sometimes strangers have to stop and admire true shine.
I digress. Mariscos poisonous namesake is rooted in the homemade habanero sauces. The salsa was uber crisp and didn’t give BJs to a bunch of cilantro for integrity. But hey, be easy on the quantities kid; this shit holds mo heat than clap bathroom sessions. We also devoured complimentary tuna ceviche tostadas which soothed the fiesta caliente taking place in our mouths.
Our server came ova and informed us that our table was too small for the dish and that we would need to move to a six top. She smirked, then headed back to the silverware wrapping station next to the Latin-filled digital jukebox. The nervousness and tension was building. It’s like when you reach the cusp of a roller coaster and begin to have second thoughts. Wanna get off? Naw mang, it’s too late for that vagina bidness.
Shorty after, Amadeus appeared like Moses on Mt. Sinai. Instead of the Ten Commandments, ole boy came with a different type of lesson.
Thou shalt consumeth lobster until thou puketh before mine eyes.
Yessir, the “langosta gigante” lived up to its name. The body was boiled to perfection, split down the middle and served with a mixture of fresh bay scallops, calamari, skrimps and a whole bunch of other shit I couldn’t identify. The seafood stew was a bit garlicky, but I assume this was done in order to flavor the body of the lobster, which was bout the size of newborn baby. Overall, the lobster meat achieved proper sweetness…no garlic butter necessary. The Frugal Gourmet would have co-signed.
Mariscos El Veneno leans on distinct village style prep in order to make El Barco appear colossal and dumb (much like Cancun). So, if you’re in Ukrainian Village with 5 friends, or you’re alone and cravin lobster leftovas for two weeks, this is your joint. I implore you to schwill down all that BYO brew and/or liqqah, and go take a huge Calvin style leak on the Joneses.
Consider these verbals as more of a disclaimer than anything else…Drunkenness is mos def welcome, just dont fuck up the decor.