Even though many folk like to curl up in a depressed little heap and pretend they aren't getting any older, I've always maintained that despite the inevitable ageing stuff AT LEAST a birthday is an excellent excuse for a party. I countered that lovely, wholesome day with a night out at Death by Burrito with my bestest girlfriends. The food was flawless - my fish tacos were melt in the mouth morsels of batter coated fish in corn tortillas with delicious slaw and a moreish spicy sauce. The pork w/ crackling burrito I tasted was the food of dreams. Helpfully a tequila-only cocktail menu meant the margaritas flowed. And flowed. Cat and Jo entertained themselves with through-window charades, and lovely Lisa gave me a big fizzy birthday sparkler for our petit fours of red and black macarons. I am more and more convinced I could live on just Mexican food (and drink) forever.