W is over Caribbean cocktails made of rum and is yearning for a bottle of good vino, so our host Jose the elder recommends we try Sol Ananda, a restaurant run by an amigo architecto, and his son Jose works there too. He assures us they have a cueva del vinos, and I threaten him with a meat cleaver if the restaurant isn’t good.
Which it is, so Jose senior is in no danger.
Lazaro, the architect owner has taken a stately mansion and turned it into a restaurant, funnily enough keeping the furniture, including the bedrooms. Dining tables are arranged beside the antique beds – I guess if you drink too much vino, you can just stay in one of the beds..
We have to wait for about an hour before we get a seat, while waiters scurry around us with plates laden with mouthwatering food destined to the tour groups that have set siege on the town. But we have the opportunity to taste the local cocktail: canchanchara; lemon juice, water, rum (of course) and a dollop of honey in the bottom. Delicioso. With a few too many under their belt, the locals apparently burst into spontaneous bouts of salsa. The only one we see, is a guy pushing his bike past the restaurant, and he can’t even push the bike straight so I suspect attempts at fancier footwork would see him topple over.
Beside us sits a lone american – he came in behind us and managed to get one table to himself right next to the bar, surrounded by park benches where we sit and chat with Lazaro; or rather S sits and chats with him. I think the lone americano looks like a Michelin restaurant critic, and tell him so – it must be a bit difficult sitting enjoying your meal with three voyeurs looking over your shoulder.
The vino is good too, so after dinner we negotiate our way carefully back to our casa over the very uneven cobble stones. Not even one salsa step to imperil our health.