What a weekend! Saturday in itself held enough events to fill a week, but was a lovely glimpse into what summer will be — a fabulous, slightly tipsy adventure. And it all started w/G’s birthday brunch at a kitsch, Mexican place in Greenwich Village known for its margaritas and its drag queens. After all, what’s a brunch without unlimited margs and a little drag?
Located in the heart of Greenwich Village (Greenwich Ave between W 10th and Charles St), Maracas offers a festive atmosphere complete with modern versions of the disco ball and bead curtain partitions.
Also on the welcoming platter is a $10 all-you-can-drink brunch special — your choice of strawberry, lime, or traditional margaritas, bloody marys, or mimosas. The catch (and unfortunately, there is a catch) is that the special lasts for only 90 minutes from the moment the first member of your party sits down. Now, G & I have been caught off guard by such limits before, and we weren’t about to make that mistake again. The entire party was assembled in the foyer/bar area of Maracas before G directed us to the reserved tables to commence the merrymaking. I opted for the mimosas — I love my tequila, but still think it’s probably not the best idea on an empty stomach. Which brings me to my next point: food.
Maracas takes the standard brunch menu of various types of eggs and burgers, and gives it that Mexican kitsch twist. Chicken/veggie/steak fajitas/burritos were popular choices that day — I opted for the bacon, egg and cheese quesadilla, which I viewed as both the best of both worlds (breakfast/lunch) and a clever twist on an eggel (only my favorite breakfast ever — bacon, egg and cheese on a toasted bagel). It wasn’t bad. I mean, how can you go wrong with that combo? And it certainly was filling. Was it the greatest quesadilla I’ve ever had? Not really, no. But it was cheap, sufficiently greasy and went well with my mimosas (also not the best I’ve ever had — but you get what you pay for). As for that cheddar-cheese-yellow mush on the side of every plate? No, I do not know what it is (tho I have a hunch it’s a stylized form of grits) but I do know it is not delicious. You’ve been warned.
Of course, the best part of having a birthday brunch is that the restaurant celebrates with you! G got a sparkling piece of cake — by which I mean there was a fountain sparkler in place of a candle — and a resounding smack on the cheek from the resident drag queen. Left quite the amazing lipstick mark!
As I said, Maracas was only the beginning — stay tuned for G’s Birthday Bash, Part 2: Fiddlesticks!
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