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So I know this picture makes my guilty pleasure look as bad as Kurt Russell's nachos in Death Proof, but I swear these breakfast chilaquiles are delicious. On my little vacation back to Houston to remind Sara that she is still married to me we went to Buffalo Grille and I totally over-indulged. In fact, I am still paying for it with a creeping case of slow burn just above my heart.
If you've never had these little infernos--eggs on top of tortilla strips that have been soaked in hot lava juice--make sure you find a good first place to try them. I had some in SF that were fairly mediocre, and it is oh so important to be sure you get a good batch the first time. Well, maybe that would be a bad thing since you may turn into a zombie like me, craving chilaquiles whenever they are near. BRAINS!
1 comment:
"creeping case of slow burn just above my heart" better that than just below your chode.
there is a place on 1st just north of houston (by lil frankie's) that does an amazing super hot chilaquile. I'll take you there next time you are here.
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