Cantina Quotes

“They were all there for the food, the drink, and the ambience, even as everyone devoured plates as disparate as Korean bibimbap and French vichyssoise.
"I'm going over there." Ana pointed to a midnight-blue food truck that was known for having the best bao, steamed Vietnamese buns, in Denver. Which, given the popularity of the southeast Asian cuisine in the city lately, was more of an accomplishment than it might have seemed.
"What about you?" Rachel asked Melody.
"I'm having what you're having. You never steer me wrong."
"Then A Parisian in Denver is the way to go. Come on. I want to say hello to Lilia."
They found their way to the end of the line in front of a food truck painted in red, blue, and white, and Rachel craned her neck to feet a better look at the chalkboard that proclaimed the day's specials. There was French street food like crepes and merguez sausages alongside trendy favorites like duck confit pommes frites.”
― Carla Laureano, The Saturday Night Supper Club

“Allí se bebe a costillas propias o ajenas; bebe el gorrista destapado, el que finge no serlo, el que quiere y el que no quiere: yo bebo, tú bebes, él bebe; sólo el estanquero no bebe, y... el hombre feliz tampoco. Allí está tirado proclamándose Prometeo y dios a un mismo tiempo, y a medida que se bebe, llamean las mejillas; enrojecen las narices; las pupilas fulguran; los sombreros se van a las coronas... y el dar filo a las lenguas, y el charloteo, y el hablar a la rebatiña, y el tartamudear... el tímido bota la timidez; el discreto desembucha secretos; el hipócrita, picardías; el generoso se torna en cicatero; el caballero en canalla; el prudente en imprudente; el cobarde en rajabroqueles; el manso se sulfura; el sin ventura halla la felicidad; el triste, la alegría; el callado habla hasta por los codos; y el alma-de-cántaro... empeora... Allí de proyectos, de negocios, de política, de crónica escandalosa; allí de chistes, de chascarrillos, de literatura, de amor... Y el cigarrillo, mezclando sus perfumados humos con los vulgares del tabaco de la tierra, y el olor de las tinas, y el tufo de los bebedores (de El palacio de la felicidad)”
― Francisco de Paula Rendon, Cuentos y novelas

“The talk and the clatter, the noise and the fume,
Of stale gossip and chatter and old ladies' Perfume, conjured in sin a hideous gloom,
Which settled upon me like a shadow in the room.”
― Michelesthird

“Alma focused. She went behind the tall wood-carved bar and straightened the tequila bottles. She loved the colors and designs of the containers--- brightly colored, some were even hand-painted. Her favorite bottle was a white ceramic one painted with intricate blue leaves. The shape of the bottle resembled the curves of a woman, and the liquor itself was just as robust, just as refined--- truly the intersection of quality and art.
She signaled her bar manager, Lupe, to turn the music on, to which Lupe quickly obliged. The melodic sounds of one of her favorite Spanish ballads filled the air; the singer's deep baritone voice almost as intoxicating as the liquor in the place.
Almost.
A waft from the kitchen danced through her nostrils. Though this was a tequila bar, Mezcalifornia was known for its happy hour. They served mostly the usual fare that you would expect--- small carnitas street tacos, fresh-charred corn dressed with a tangy garlic sauce and garnished with cotija cheese, mini ahi tostadas, and of course, guacamole. She hadn't wanted a typical sit-down restaurant with gourmet food and a wine list. Been there, done that.
No. She wanted a vibe. A destination. An experience.”
― Alana Albertson, My Fair Señor