Leche De Tigre

We were tired after a day of golf.

It's a sport which, thanks to my brother's broken heart...and the Scottish, I have recently taken interest in.

Though a beer and a burger are the usual orders of the day, we needed more.
We felt the need for strong drink and even stronger food to nourish the soul and revitalize the spirit.

We needed ceviche'....but our usual restaurant had been closed down for reasons unknown. One could only speculate: bad business, health violations, turning into a nightclub for the late-night Latino crowd, rat shit, cat vomit...who knows?

Mission status: Search and Destroy

SEARCH out a seedy looking, hole-in-the-wall, B-rating Spanish restaurant.

DESTROY a plate of ceviche', Coronas, and a few tequila shots. ayiyiyi!We get a hint from a friend about a spot in Arlington which claims to be the official unofficial Home of Ceviche'.

We hit the lights and shoot our way down 66 into the heart of Arlington...the micro-city which is home of the sundress, booty-short wearing, mid-day workout, summer interns.

We pull up the spot. If you laid down in the parking lot with your feet toward the building, your head would be crushed by oncoming traffic.

Really small.I look up to the window and see a neon sign which in English means: Crazy Chicken....we hope.Walk in and order a couple of Coronas from the no habla Ingles waitress. The back of her shirt proudly sports the words: Home of Ceviche’Order up.

The single variety of restaurant patrons was a good sign, all Spanish. A lunch couple next to us receives their order, immediately the smell of lime juice and raw fish punches me in the face. It's followed by some potent onion and cilantro. Silverware scrapes against porcelain...

Our order finally arrives and it's a thing of beauty. A heaping pile of raw fish and cooked squid in a cool lime juice bath. Onions, shrimp, cilantro, half of a sweet potato, and Peruvian corn (which looks like kernels that were stabbed with a straw and blown up, fucken giant corn!)

My plate goes from full to empty in five point fat seconds. All that's left is the lime juice which has turned to a milky white from it's chemical reaction with the fish.

This is LECHE DE TIGRE. Tiger's Milk, homes!I pick up my spoon and take a scoop. I throw it down the hatch...if this is what tiger's milk taste like, cubs be gettin' fuuuuuuucked up.

I hear some giggling from a few tables down and look to see what the commotion is all about. Two Spanish girls had witnessed me suckling the teat of the tiger.

"Te gusta, eh?" says one.

"Si, mija bonita." I say. They laugh.

My brother-in-law and all-purpose translator steps up to the plate and strikes up friendly conversation.The waitress comes back and we order up a of couple Pisco Sours...tequila, egg whites, and whatever else those crazy Peruvian put in it.

The same two girls start giggling. After murdering the Pisco Sour, our waitress makes a suggestion. A mixture of pure Pisco and Leche de Tigre.Now I know that Leche de Tigre was the ultimate hangover cure for Spanish people...but this was something else.

This was one for the books. You can't even find it in the menu.She told me it was a shot, but she brings a cup instead.I stare it down for a quick second. I take a sip. The Spanish girls say something, Jose laughs and translates. They said my girlfriend is in trouble tonight.

You see, while it is a hangover cure, Leche de Tigre is also an aphrodisiac.I count to three and pour it down my face-hole. If there was ever a thing as over-vitalized, I was definitely it. You feel like you could take on the world after that shit.

The Spanish girls clap and one of them says something...yes, in Spanish.Jose smiles and shakes his head.

"Their asking if you wanna come home."

If you are what you eat, then by Spanish standards I was horny. To be honest I felt more like a Life Tiger than a Sex Tiger.

We have a few more laughs and pay the tab. We thank the waitress and head out to the car. Before we pull out of the parking lot one of the Spanish girls emerges from the restaurant. They weren't joking, they wanted to party. She exchanges words with my translator for a bit and we pull away. They wanted to experience the more favorable effects of tiger's milk. As Jose told them, we're both married.

Not bad for a Sunday afternoon.




Life Tiger