Take-out from The Bend

Jun 13, 2018 | 1 comment

My grandparents always referred to South Bend as “The Bend.”  I don’t know why exactly.  I do know that most of their local day-to-day (more like once or twice a month) dealings were centered across the bay in the early days – the cleaners, the bank, the dentist, the barber, were all in The Bend.  Important business was usually transacted in Portland which, in the early part of the twentieth century, was the most accessible big city.  It wasn’t until automobiles and roads arrived that travel on the Peninsula, itself, became easier for north end residents.

These days, we seldom go to South Bend.  Not unless we have jury duty or other business at the courthouse or at the Pacific County History Museum.  Otherwise, South Bend is a place to go through rather than a final destination.  We usually stop there to use the public restrooms (thank goodness for them but they are truly the embodiment of “pit” in pit stop) on our way to and from Seattle.  That’s it.

Yesterday, however, we were passing through about four o’clock on our way home from the Emerald City and Nyel suggested to nip in to Betzy’s Tienda Mexicana to check it out – maybe pick up something to take home for dinner.  Great idea!  We have heard great things about their food but we seldom are there before their 4:30 closing time.

As it turned out, there weren’t many choices.  “We’re out of rice,” the pleasant cook said.  “It takes two hours for us to clean up, so we don’t have much left by this time of day.”  Nevertheless, she put together enough ingredients so we could build four “quesadillas” when we got home – two with chicken, one with beef, and one with barbecued beef.  It smelled delicious and tantalized us all the way to Oysterville.

It didn’t take long to put it all together after we got home – lettuce, onions and cilantro, hot sauce, sour cream and – of all things! – parmesan cheese.  We zapped the four taco shells which were folded around the chicken and beef and mozzarella, added the other ingredients and voilà! (or the Spanish equivalent).  Dinner was ready! Not quesadillas exactly.  Not tacos exactly.  Not Mexican exactly.  Nevertheless… a six or seven on a scale of one to ten.  We’ll probably try it again.

1 Comment

  1. Diane Buttrell

    I savored a great quesadilla there while Hal was in court. (February jury duty)


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