This week, I had the opportunity to have dinner at a nice little hidden gem, most of you haven’t heard of, La Cocina de mi Esposa. I had heard wonderful things from my kid about this place, so I decided to check it out after work on Monday.

I pulled up at around 5:30pm and to my surprise, the wait wasn’t too bad. I expected the dinner rush to be a problem, but I was presently surprised at the amount of available seating. I was able to get a table in the center of the dining room. The lighting was perfect. Above the table sat a small, personal chandelier that provided a very soft lighting for the table and surrounding area. The ambience of the room was pretty inviting as I didn’t feel the need to look around to scope out a better table for myself.

One thing that sets La Cocina de mi Esposa apart is the fact that they don’t use menus. This caught me by surprise as I was ready to spend ten to fifteen minutes deciding on what I wanted. After hearing my 5-year-old scream about how great the food was there, I expected the decision making to take quite a bit of time.

Before I knew it, the most pleasant woman was standing beside me serving my food. Apparently, I settled on the Four Bean Chili with a side of club crackers and a water. Apparently, I have great taste in food.

This was hands down, the best chili I’d ever had. It combined the hearty texture of spaghetti, with the assorted flavors of a Louisiana gumbo. Every bite was as if I was receiving CPR from God, himself (or herself). Each spoonful was a spicy letter to my tastes buds. I always order a water with dinner, but this time I opted not to drink any during the meal because I didn’t want to risk not having the flavor in my mouth. To sip even a bit of water would have been drowning out heaven.

When the meal was over and only the streaked remnants of red sauce were left in my bowl, I wept. I had experienced ambrosia. I had sat at that round, wooden table and experienced the sustenance of the gods. I had dined with the divine and liked it.

In the end, La Cocina de mi Esposa did not disappoint. I give the place a coveted 10 out of 10, knowing that I will return night after night to experience the culinary artwork created within that Sistine Chapel. I highly recommend that if there is Una Cocina de tu’ Esposa near you, that you check it out. And for those that missed the joke, this review is of the dinner my wife cooked. The shit was good enough for a Yelp! review.

Ambience – 10

Flavor – 10

Mouth Feel – 10

Smell – 10

Other Made Up Metrics – 10

It means “my wife’s kitchen.” — Jae Davis