I lead C.C. back to the corner. We shade our eyes and look in. Dark and empty. We hurry back to the Bean. Owned by the son of the chef at Tio Pepe.
Pop makes all the sauces, son cooks.
Great grub for cheap. It sounded too good to be true, so we checked it out. While the name El Rancho conjures images of tacos, rice, and beans, there's nothing Tex-Mex here, except for the fried plantains, which are available but not listed on the menu. In fact, the menu should be regarded as a figurative rather than a literal document. On the night we dined there with our friend Joanne, the salad contained iceberg lettuce, tomato, and a delicious, unidentifiable white dressing.