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I never knew how good I had it at Los Alamos Cafe until that North Side eatery closed in early May and left me stumbling the streets at noon like a stray tomcat searching for a decent morsel.

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"EXTRA JALAPENOS PLEASE!"
"EXTRA JALAPENOS PLEASE!"

“Meow! Meow-ow! Meeoooowww!” (Translation: “Any good lunch specials out there, people ?”

Tres Jose’s Mexican Restaurant showed promise but hasn’t stolen my heart. The servers are rather distant; after 10 visits in two months I still feel like a number there.

Tuesdays I’ve been hitting Nizza Pizza Pasta & Subs and I love it. They have $1 cheese slices and $1.50 pepperoni slices that are outta sight. The owner is a cool guy with a sense of humor and a focused, business-like approach to taking care of customers. The homemade, spicy bleu cheese salad dressing is uber-tasty.

But man can’t live on pizza alone (at least this Tex-Mex craving gringo can’t).

MMMM-MMMM BUENO!
MMMM-MMMM BUENO!

I need tacos, enchiladas, rice, beans, and salsa, preferably salsa verde. I used to cradle my Los Alamos lunch special each day and whisper, “You complete me.”

There are a gazillion Tex-Mex joints in town, but few of them meet all my criteria. (I’m a demanding pain in the ass).

My Top 5 Criteria: (1) good food, (2) good service, (3) reasonable price, (4) close proximity to downtown Fort Worth, and (5) a laid-back atmosphere.

Yesterday’s visit to Yucatan Taco Stand was pretty good. Their $8 beef nacho plate is excellent. Yucatan serves wonderful tortilla chips with its nachos piled plenty high.

Still, I can’t give my heart to Yucatan — the place is too noisy. I’m looking for mental as well as physical nourishment, and the noise and chaos level at Yucatan is high. The only noisier place is Jason’s Deli on Camp Bowie Boulevard, where every mother in town takes their snot-nosed brats to cram potato chips down their throats while they scream at the top of their lungs.

I’d rather eat on the runway at D/FW International Airport.

So, 10 weeks of hitting restaurant after restaurant has still not provided me a new honey hole.

You see, I’m a “one restaurant man.” I’m a “regular.” I don’t want to eat at a different place every day. I don’t want to spread my love around. I want a favorite spot.

And when I find such a place, I never leave.

My last honey hole, Los Alamos Café, was my spot for 20 years. I spent about $40,000 there over the years, $7 at a time. Then they closed in May and I’ve been drifting along like Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western ever since, a man with a fistful of lunch money but no regular spot to spend it.

"GO AHEAD, MAKE MY PLATE"
"GO AHEAD, MAKE MY PLATE"

I’m adrift in search of enchiladas served by a kindhearted waitress who knows my name and knows I like extra onions and jalapenos and prefer corn tortillas to flour.

My latest hot tip is Regina La Abuela Restaurant on NW 25th Street. I’ll give it a try and let you know how it turns out.

Please keep those suggestions coming. If I don’t find a honey hole before long, I’m liable to start packing my lunch to work and living on nothing but bologna and PBJ sammies. Life is too short for that.

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