March 19th, 2014

There is the clatter of knives and forks. I’m privy to a subdued conversation where the words are rolling like a stray chord and there is just a snatch of a single word.
A crash of crockery and the sounds stop and hang in silence waiting for the affirmation of a positive outcome. 
A dapper man in his mid 60s sitting in a hidden booth  to the right has commanded the attention of one of the young waitresses. Their conversation is animated, maybe she is his daughter or a relative…. One can only surmise.


My soda is almost gone, it’s hot outside and I forgot how thirsty I was.
The waitress keeps turning to look at me in fast fleeting glances… Money changes Hands and is slipped into the pocket in her apron. 
It’s been 20 minutes and my hamburger has gone cold due to my  observations.  
I’m embarrassed to say that I’m eating a hamburger in a traditional  Mexican restaurant, but two weeks of Mexican food increases the desire for a taste of normality.
My coffee is cold and tastes like American cafe coffee. I’m disappointed.

The restaurant Is a former  grand house. It is taller than it is wide with an open courtyard in the centre. The light is governed by the clouds and sunlight outside and it waxes and wanes with regularity which is a little annoying to my senses.
The walls are that Mexican sunburnt yellow with huge murals  painted on them. In front of me are static green hills with a constrained form of a peacock sitting  on a door frame…brown flying birds complete the picture and look more like prehistoric birds than those in restful pose. 
A border of red  and blue painted tiles frame the image and despite its lack of realism, I quite like it.
Images of carved grey stone decorate and look down on the patrons. 
Once a grand house the air now rings with business of middle class Mexican lunch.

The history of La Casa de los Azulejos is as colorful as the tiles adorning the exterior of the palace. It is believed that near the end of the 1500’s the house was inhabited by Don Damian Martinez who was forced by his creditors to turn the property over to Don Diego de Peredo  to satisfy a debt of 6,500 pesos. Don Diego then willed the house to his daughter Graciana who married Don Luis de Vivero the second Count of the Valley of Orizaba. History goes on to tell that several generations later one of the owners who had inherited the house and the title of Count of Orizaba had a son who was a squanderer of money. The old Count tired of his frequent squabbles with his son over his customs of high living finally told him, “Son, you will never go far in life nor will you ever build a house of tiles.” This comment caused the son to change his ways and he made a promise to completely reconstruct the old house.  The son was able to keep his promise and the name of the house was changed from Blue Palace to The House of Tiles.

I have been to this place many times. I always eat Mexican food, specially the Tortilla soup.
Its a wonderful place to visit.
I hope you enjoyed visiting it with me.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. good tips very fatastic

  2. Grate blog post !! Grate article !

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