Manny’s is one of those joints that’s “just around the corner.” So we all piled in the car and drove the five minutes to Ventura Blvd. where its bold red lettering stands out against the white-painted cement building. I had been craving authentic Mexican food since I got off the plane and I knew my cousins would know the best place for it. Manny’s humble interior compliments its simple dishes that are served on paper plates with plastic utensils. The beauty of Mexican cuisine is its straightforwardness. I once heard someone say they went to a Mexican restaurant and asked the server to explain what each dish was, which ended up being: tortilla, meat, cheese, beans and rice. If you want Mexican, you have to be in the mood for at least three out of five of those ingredients.

My order, the tostada salad, included four of the staples and then some: a crispy tortilla bowl overflowing with refried beans, lettuce shavings, tomato slices, marinated chicken and melted cheddar topped with two big globs of homemade guacamole and sour cream. My instinct told me to mix it all together then break off pieces of the tostada bowl to scoop up the delicious mess, but my conscience told me to dig for the lettuce and tomato and eat it before it was coated in unsaturated fat. That didn’t last long. I went back to plan A and used the fried tortilla as a utensil until there was nothing left of the bowl except it’s soggy bottom.

Unfortunately, Mexican food has a reputation for having a post-ingestion “fiesta” in my stomach. But it’s always worth it.  I’m even thinking about next time adding hot sauce - la vida de la fiesta.

Note to self: “Mexican” and “salad” does not usually mean healthy.