Walking through the doors of Mother Flower, I felt a deep sense of relief. The heat of the July Cabo sun was sweltering. I had been cat called more than once by black clad massage girls soliciting me on my walk from the paid parking lot to the restaurant. Vendors selling phony trinkets and lucha libre masks had tried to lure me in. 

My server was a gay man. He was very kind and attentive. He thought I was French, ostensibly because I was disheveled and sweaty. He asked me whether I would like to order in English or Spanish. I chose Spanish, out of respect for the solidarity Mexican culture.

I selected two Baja fish tacos from the menu. The server informed me that they came fried. I told him I could not eat them if they were cooked that way, and he said that the chef would grill them. That was kind of him. 

As I waited for the tacos to be made, I perused the decor. The interior of the restaurant was what I would call a sort of modern Baja Rustic, a welcome relief from what existed outside; a sort of hodgepodge of dilapidated tourist-trap establishments, oil stained asphalt, and neglected gray concrete with a history more stained than that of the current US President. 

After only about five minutes, two deliciously decorated tacos tacos arrived. They looked delightful and tasted absolutely delicious. 

The warm hospitality of the staff was contagious. The food was excellent. I enjoyed watching life go by through through the big plate glass windows that framed the tourist area of downtown Cabo, dirty as it was.

I will go back to dine at Mother Flower, and I will recommend it to my friends. The neighborhood is not exactly Baja Chic, but the atmosphere of the place, the attentive service, and the appetizing cuisine make it worthwhile.