Mexigo: the greasy truth

Can Mexigo stand up to our old faithful: Empire?

It will not have escaped the notice of anyone who’s anyone that ‘Burrito Bar & Tex-Mex Cantina,’ Mexigo, has recently opened at the same prime piece of real estate that used to be occupied by the Kinness Fry Bar. My flatmates and I had planned an excursion to Mexigo on the evening of Thursday 13th March. My excitement was particularly piqued because included in the party was David Rose, the man/legend who became ‘the face of Mexigo’ when he ate their 1000th burrito around noon on Tuesday the 11th. Impressive, considering they had opened three days before.

We set off from our nearby flat, mildly intoxicated, at around 10.30, ready to go big. Anticipation on the short walk was so high that we left a snail-like trail of drool in our wake. Imagine our dismay then when upon turning the corner we saw streetlight glinting off the protective metal grille – the universal sign that a low to medium quality takeaway establishment is closed for business. I admit that further research would have alerted us to the fact that Thursday is one of the nights when Mexigo was open not until 11 but 10. This admission aside, is such an early closure really acceptable? Thursday has been the new Friday longer than Monday has been the new Sunday and longer even than Friday has been the new Saturday (leave Tuesday and Wednesday out of this). I cannot be the only one to think that Mexigo’s opening hours should be extended if is it is to gain a foothold in the vibrant St Andrews fast food scene.

Returning empty-stomached to the flat, morale was low. Nobody’s more so than Dave ‘Mexigo’ Rose himself who looked about ready to end it all, although may just have been suffering from very low blood sugar. It was at this nadir that we realised our true error. We realised that probably from the beginning of the evening, and actually for a couple of years now, we had erred from the straight path. We had done the once unthinkable: we had forgotten Empire! In my first year Empire was the final destination of any night out in St Andrews. Some of my fondest memories of those heady days are their Donner Calzone repeating on me the morning after a big one.

The truth is that Empire can still throw cheese and garlic mayo onto chips with the best of them and, more importantly, they deliver at no extra charge on orders over £8. Our course of action had become clear. Calling Empire up I got through to a woman whom I cannot deny sounded both young and attractive and ordered a large margherita and large pepperoni pizza for a total cost of £17.70. The deep-pan pizza itself was highly satisfactory, particularly the piping hot pepperoni. David Rose appeared to burst into tears of joy although I admit that the room was poorly lit and this could have just been a cheese-induced sweat. All were eminently satisfied and, I reckon, just as full as we would have been after anything of equivalent price from Mexigo.

I suppose if there’s a moral to this story it’s this: if you’re hungry, it’s the night and you have more than £5 you are always able to get something deliciously disgusting from Empire, always have been, always will be. And that, my friends, is the greasy truth.