I'd originally planned to spend my last night in New England at Logan and so had booked an early flight out, but my age was nagging at me so I treated myself to the Embassy Suites, which was available last minute at a very attractive rate. I showed up an hour early, and my room, the Revere, wasn't made up yet, so the desk clerk put me in the Orient Heights, slightly smaller, close to the elevator, but with a better view. It consists of a conference room, wet bar, living area with sofabed, king bedroom, and largish bath that as it turns out serves as effective noise buffer to the corridor and the elevator. Something outlandish like 900 square feet. I felt a bit dwarfed but made up by strewing my clothing all around the room. There was seating for 8 at the conference table, which had an unplugged Ethernet cable on it. Apparently whoever had prepped the room couldn't find the jack. Turns out it's at the corner of the room, behind the curtain. A living room larger than that of my house, when I had a house. My buddy Link agreed to come out to dinner on short notice. I'd thought of asking Nicholas the gor-may, but he was busy. Link is a fairly adventurous eater, though inclined towards vegetarianism, a creed I don't have enormous sympathy with. We do manage to find places that will suit us both, most of the time. This evening the honoree was the well-regarded Taqueria Cancun, a small storefront a block from the Maverick blue line stop. We arrived around half-past five, and there were already several tables filled, a good sign, and with patrons of the brownish persuasion, an even better sign. Maybe it was the fact that Coronas were three bucks (we had several of those) or maybe the food was actually good. It seemed a sure thing. I spared no sensibilities and ordered an enchilada de lengua - a crisp-fried tortilla topped with shredded lettuce, some tomato, sauce, a few tablespoons of chopped boiled beef tongue, and some Mexican cheese, which I picked off. Pretty good, and I even convinced Link to try a bite, which she found "interesting." And yuca con chicharron, yuca being among my favorite starches and chicharron being one of my favorite meat products. The bad news came out from the kitchen - no more yuca, could they substitute potatoes? I said no, just give me a plate with a lot of chicharron. Later on the bill I was given a $2 discount for having no starch. The bits had a little higher ratio of meat to fat than I'm accustomed to, so they were chewier rather than crispy; still quite good with a squeeze of lime. Link said her chile relleno was tasty and authentic, though it appeared too cheesy for me to try a sample. I did taste the green sauce, which was good if mild. The hotel is about a ten minute walk from downtown Maverick. We went up to my suite to see the sights (it's no good if I can't brag to someone); she oohed and aahed appropriately. The Manager's Reception at the hotel was still going on when we went back down to the lobby - at a normal Embassy Suites, this is a way for guests to relax and mix, aided by a glass or three of embarrassing plonk or Budweiser product, but thanks to Massachusetts being what it is, free booze is not an option. You'd think that cheap booze was, but it's not, as it turns out. There was a fair spread of quite bad food. The stuffed shrimp wrapped in bacon were all right but a bit resilient in a superballish way and very salty; and there were sort of potato samosa things, also salty. These were later replaced by what looked like eggroll but turned out to be some sort of pizza-flavored excrescence - a greasy wrapper encasing tiny bits of rancid pepperoni in cheezoid lava. Over yonder were chipsandip and crudites with ranch. We decided to be fair and buy a couple Sams at the bar; this was a little misguided, as it cost $17 (counting tax and tip) for two drinks. I thought that Trip Advisor had advised that the bar prices were fair. Wrong. As I had an early plane to catch, and I cannot afford too many beers at that rate, and I'm too old to pick up blondes, sleep seemed to be the proper course at this point.