Awesome pal Bri calls herself a sushi slut, in that she’ll pretty much eat sushi anywhere, anytime. By this definition, I’m definitely A. a vodka trollop and B. a cheese whore. And I know there are some MD readers out there who share my passion for the moldy milk. You know who you are. (Christelle & Molly.)
So imagine my DELIGHT in finding a tapas place right in my own backyard (Santa Monica) that’s actually named for a cheese! Manchego is an adorable Spanish enclave, steps from Wolfgang Puck’s Chinois, the Library Ale House and other Main St. staples. One tiny room, about a dozen tables. The night we went, they didn’t have enough chairs for our party of five, so they gave me a bar stool and I benevolently ruled over my friends from my lofty perch for the better part of 15 minutes, until a normal chair became available.
BTW, it’s BYOB and currently, no corkage fee! OMG! It looked like they were giving people free hummos while they waited for a table, SCORE. Everyone loved their buttery, bite-sized empanadas (Spain’s answer to the hot pocket), the big fresh ensalada, and the goat cheese, honey and dried figs on bread. Sadly, this dark picture is the only image I could find, and it’s from Manchego’s own site:
But I guess you get the idea? Now, just to be clear, Manchego is good, but nothing can compare to my beloved Emilio’s Tapas in Chicago. (Caution — loud link!) But if someone wants to fly me to Spain so we can try to find a better one, I’ll suck it up and take one for the team.
I know. I’m a giver.