Tuesday

Sunday, we saw a Vietnamese movie--I believe the first real Vietnamese movie we've seen together, though it's depressing nationalist condemnation necessitated filming primarily in Thailand. Journey from the Fall (Vượt Sóng, 2006)* is the downbeat tale of a family divided after the fall of Saigon in 1975. Father is jailed in a re-education camp while his wife, mother, and son endure the hardships of refugee life. Through quirky non-linear storytelling, the movie reaches its depressing end about halfway through, the remaining half devoted to events lending gravity to that climax in a sort-of anti-denouement. It's clever and well-made, if bleak. Tonight we dined at a modest little Mexican restaurant we've occasionally noticed down the street. I should really put that in quotes: "Mexican". It’s a rare place: this decidedly gringo affair reminded me of quasi south-of-the-border type restaurants I frequented as a kid--places with names like Tippy's Tacos and Tijuana Fats, where Mexican beer fans produced "Mexican" cuisine at a crazy US east coast remove. Sunshine called it "Frat Mexican." Nostalgia powered my very real enjoyment of our meal (including Worcestershire salsa, thoroughly salted tortilla chips, and enough grated Colby-jack for a ¡Fiesta!). It did not in any way resemble the food I ate while in Mexico; that's to be expected. The surprise was that it didn't one iota resemble food from the Mexican-run restaurants that began springing up when I was in high school, either--places with names like San Luis and Mi Pueblo. Seventies-era Mexican food is difficult to find nowadays; I relish the discovery of this festive little dinosaur. Sadly I didn't catch the name, so I'll call it "Sombrero Hut" in honor of the multi-colored hats hanging everywhere. If you're ever in Arlington, I recommend Sombrero Hut after about the third month. [Cavin]