SoLuna, on Broadway at Sunset: Try it, you'll like it.

Mexican restaurants have to be really good to survive for any length of time in San Antonio, so I seldom rush to visit a new one. I don't really know, but I suspect that relaxed approach has spared me many a mediocre meal.

SoLuna has been in the restaurant space at the corner of Broadway and Sunset for a while; I don't really know how long. Twenty years ago there was a vaguely-French restaurant in that space, where my wife and I had our first breakfast together after our wedding. So there was a small sense of personal connection that eventually was sufficient to get us to spend a Friday evening there.

The decor is bright and pleasant despite being trendy. The entry is into the bar, which at that hour was crowded with people waiting for tables, and one old man with the look of a personal injury lawyer checking emails on his cellphone while tossing back margaritas. We lucked into a seat and room to stand, but could not attract the attention of either of the two bartenders, who seemed resolute in their desire to ignore everyone in front of them and cater only to the waiters' service window. Fortunately we didn't have to wait too long before a man who looked for all the world like a customer tapped me on the shoulder and said he had a table for us.

We were seated in the first dining room off the bar. The walls were bright white and decorated with two very nice paintings, one a monumental monochrome of Frida Kahlo, black on orange; the other a portrait of someone who looked like a friend of mine but, I'm sure, was actually somebody who is more widely known. I thought maybe Shakira, but decided not. (The menu boasts, accurately, of "Fine Art On Display.") I could see another portrait of Kahlo in the next room. Overall the impression was one of taste and discernment, but that was overshadowed by the rambunctious acoustics and disorderly service. We were seated for some time, with only a menu to amuse us, before a server brought water, chips and salsa. The salsa was interesting -- roasted pepper, no tomato -- but on the oily side. We had made our selections and finished off the basket of chips before our waitress appeared to take our drink orders. We had finished off a second basket before she suddenly reappeared, dispensing napkins throughout the room. Apparantly a shipment had arrived. She took our orders and we stared in some displeasure at a third basket of chips. Before we succumbed to its dubious siren call, the waitress reappeared, now providing eating utensils all around. Apparently another shipment had come in. It was like witnessing a Soviet-era supply system.

There is a trend in restaurants to try for loudness, with uncarpeted floors and concrete-hard walls to bounce sound around until it forms an unpleasant din. Rosario's, in South Town, is probably the worst offender, or possibly Azuca, also in South Town; but SoLuna makes a valiant effort in that regard. The conversations of the other patrons in the fairly small dining room, combined with the general roar from the adjoining bar, made for a cacaphonous hour or so, yet it wasn't so loud as to grate on the nerves, the way it does at those other restaurants.

What does that mean?

And then the food came.

My wife had chile en nogada, served with rice and borracho beans. It was excellent. The beans were excellent. The rice was excellent.

I had ordered chile poblano al carbon, also with rice and borracho beans. The first dish placed in front of me, though, was something else, possibly tacos al carbon. It looked very good but wasn't what I wanted. The lady at the next table, who ended up with them, seemed to like them. My correct dish arrived mere moments later.

I have never, in all my years of eating food good, bad, and indifferent, tasted anything that actually made me say "wow" out loud. But last night I said "Wow." It was really that good. A poblano pepper roasted (over charcoal, if the menu is right) and stuffed with a mixture of chicken and cheese: it sounds so simple, so unglamourous, so fundamental, so Not Wow, but it made me say "Wow." Out loud.

It was a shame that after two baskets of chips and two bowls of oily salsa, and the rice and beans, and a mediocre and overpriced margarita, I couldn't finish it, but my wife enjoyed the remnants the next day.

Let's Go Krogering

The HEB store near my house -- the "Olmos-B" -- is a zoo. I only go there when I need something urgently in the middle of the night, a time when it's unlikely to be aswarm with young parents oblivious to their infants' need for long hours of sleep. This is a store so badly run that it is usually devoid of at least one staple item, some commonplace thing that, you would think, no grocery store could run out of. Green peppers. Tomatoes. Onions. It's also managed by cruel people who will insist on rearranging the entire store in conformity with some marketing scheme devised by people who, I'm going to have to suppose, don't do their own shopping. (I once wrote a two-page letter to the company complaining about the Olmos-B; their response was, in summary, "Always nice to hear from our customers.")

Fortunately, there's a less cluttered, albeit much smaller, supermarket at Lincoln Heights, about four miles further away, and it is there that I've done my shopping since it opened, maybe ten years ago.

But about three years ago, I wanted two kaiser rolls. This is not normally a problem: the HEB at Lincoln Heights has its own bakery, and any time I've wanted two kaiser rolls, there, or anywhere else, the people in the bakery were happy to take two kaiser rolls and put them in a bag for me. Some stores have them loose, next to the bolillos, and you can bag your own.

On that occasion, however, the lady at the bakery informed me that kaiser rolls are sold six-to-the-bag, and that not even a request from His Excellency the W would suffice to have them bag two separately. (Perhaps if Charlie Butt asked, but certainly no lesser personage.) Irked and angry, I overcame my long-standing dislike of Wal-Mart, and got my two kaiser rolls there. I was sufficiently irritated that, for some weeks, I would not set foot in my HEB, but in time I have come to a more practical arrangement.

Wal-Mart's grocery is hardly the kind of place where a real foodie could find happiness. Even after their recent extensive remodel, it's about half the size of a large supermarket, and lacks much of the variety of a real good store like the Lincoln Heights HEB (much less the Central Market or Sushi-B). It does, however, carry basic items at generally lower prices; some of Wal-Mart's house-branded goods are of perfectly acceptable quality; and their produce section, while still lacking the variety of a supermarket, has begun improving the quality of its offerings. When I started shopping there I looked at their lettuce, their tomatoes, their peppers and onions, and passed on them. Now I'm as likely to find good produce there as at HEB, as long as it's not at all out of the ordinary.

So I've taken to doing my grocery shopping -- my "Krogering," a tribute to one of the chains that once tried to compete with HEB in San Antonio, but gave up -- at two stores. I go first to Wal-Mart, buying what they have that I need; anything I don't find, and anything I don't find acceptable there, I buy at HEB. (When I started doing this, I was buying about half my groceries at each store; now, I buy nearly 75% at Wal-Mart.) So I have an opportunity to compare prices (and quality) that most people don't get.

Here, then, some comparisons:

Asparagus at Wal-Mart, acceptable quality, small stalks, was $2.77 a pound. At HEB the quality was slightly better, and the stalks were much thicker, but the price was $3.97 a pound. My cooking experience is that, as long as it's fresh, small stalks are better for grilling, though the thicker stalks are more elegant in appearance and better when served with a sauce.

Bagged baby carrots at Wal-Mart are $1.48; at HEB they're $1.68.

Red delicious apples at Wal-Mart this week (and last week) are at the lowest price I've ever seen, 35¢ a pound. HEB's price is also much lower than usual, but is still 54¢ a pound.

Borden 2% cheese slices at Wal-Mart were 18.4¢ per ounce; at HEB they were 18.92¢, and that was their New Lower Price.

The type of coffee creamer I like was $2.26 at Wal-Mart, and $2.38 at HEB.

The only sea-salt grinder Wal-Mart has (I think it's by McCormick) was $1.92. The only one I found at HEB -- a different brand, and it might've been a little larger -- was $2.99.

Graham crackers and Cheerios were the same price at both stores.

Lender's plain bagels were a penny cheaper at Wal-Mart.

I've noticed over the past few years that prices on produce go up and down, but generally speaking, if Wal-Mart carries it, and if the quality is acceptable to me, their price will be lower; occasionally significantly lower. But again, they don't carry anything other than the basics.

There are a few things I still won't buy at Wal-Mart: deli meats, for example; and pet supplies (that, because they're way the hell across on the far side of the store). But there are things that HEB no longer carries -- Weight-Watcher yogurt in the 6-ounce size, for example; Smart-Pop Kettle Corn in the large bags -- and there is even one product that I know of, shredded wheat, where Wal-Mart's house brand is of better quality than HEB's.