Lolita is bringing nightlife to “the country”

Whenever we head to Chris’s house in Connecticut, he and his family always call it “the country.” I don’t know that I would call Greenwich “country,” but it definitely feels like taking a mini-vacation when we get out of the city and start driving through the windy, tree and boulder-filled landscape. This summer, we’ve been heading to the suburbs country more than usual to make use of Chris’s most recent, and now that I think about it, only purchase… ever.  A sailboat.  Yup, he bought a sailboat.  Granted, it was on major sale/discount, so you know I appreciate that.  Still… he bought a boat.  When you marry a guy who basically never imposes on anyone and never asks for anything, you just can’t say “no” the first time he has a request.  I’m just happy he didn’t ask for a space shuttle or something.

You know what confuses me?  I grew up outside of the NYC in a town in New Jersey.  We called it a suburb.  Why is Greenwich, “the country?”  Is that just fancy-speak for suburb?  I don’t think anyone heading into Jersey calls it, “the country.”  In fact, I know they have worse names for it (my husband has a couple of choice nicknames for my beloved Jerz that I’m going to pretend I forgot).  Oh well, I’ll continue to play along.  So we usually catch a late train out of the city, which tends to jazz us up a bit, only to spit us out into a town where the bar looks like a J.Crew catalogue photo shoot just let out and all the models are running for booze to drown their madras sorrows.  Confession time: I have madras, seersucker, preppy wear, etc. and I like it – not the point here.  All I’m saying is that I want a chill place where I don’t feel like my only options are to kick back with my boat shoes and wrinkle my polo.

Once again, the Suarez family (I think I should just start calling them a Food Dynasty) steps in to address a food void.  They just opened up Lolita in Byram (Greenwich), a quick walk away from the Port Chester train station.  Open until 2AM, the EPIC tequila menu and beautiful bar area have answered my swanky booze-prayers.

If you can make it a little earlier, you can partake in the full Mexican menu at a table either inside or in the garden/patio area – perfect for summer.  Chris and I basically ordered our weight in food, enjoying some spicy guacamole, queso fundido, carne asada fajitas, fish tacos, and a side of zocalo corn.  There was a lovely “welcome granita” made with pink grapefruit juice and topped table-side with a swirl of tequila blanco.  Next time (and there will be a next time), I’m going to try my hand at the bistec tampiqueño – all 18oz of that bone-in ribeye.

Zocalo Corn

Lolita Fish Taco

And don’t worry, eating at the table doesn’t mean you have to miss the bar  – it comes to you.  Should you choose to order a margarita with your meal, a gorgeous young lady in a black, fitted, asymmetrical dress (FYI – this place is STACKED with beautiful people) will wheel the margarita cart over to your table and custom blend your drink to order.  That cart is also prepped for tequila shots if you’re in the mood.

have margarita, will travel... to your table (that's Chris in the background checking out his menu and not our margarita-chica -- gotta love him)

the Lolita Margarita

As my dad-in-law and I toasted tequila shots from one such cart wo-manned by a particularly stunning young lady, he noted that smart restaurants need two things to be successful: steak-and-sizzle.  Lolita definitely wins big on both fronts offering carne asada and bistec served to you with a side of are-those-waiters-or-models sizzle.  Those model-esque servers just happen to be SUPER-attentive as well – I think our table was visited by no less than 5 different, beautiful people.  I also really dig the diversity of this stylish staff; something that isn’t always represented out in the country.

Carne Asada

So if you’re too old to do the “home from college for the summer” bar and too young (either in age or spirit) to call it a night at 9PM, Lolita is calling.  Complete with bongo players, you feel like you’ll either stumble out of Lolita onto the streets of NYC or out onto the beaches of Miami.  Just do me a favor and call a cab if you’ve hit that tequila cart too many times – a disaster I may be, but a drunken-fool-behind-the-wheel I am not.  Thank you, Lolita, for bringing a little nightlife to the country.

Oh, and they brought a massive cotton candy mountain to each table that had a nice surprise of little pop rocks speckled throughout. Chris and I picked the pop rocks out like monkeys grooming our cotton-candy-monkey-baby.