How Do You Say "Let's Go....Sometime" in Spanish?

I went to Andale last night, following a powerful craving for margaritas and the sage advice of the Going Out Gurus. (Also because Cafe Atlantico was closed for the evening. Come back, beloved Cafe Atlantico, provider of delicious conch fritters and famed tequila concoctions, come back!) I'd always meant to go to go Andale, and now I have, and can't I just discuss my fabulous new sparkly flip-flops or tell funny stories about my dog instead? No? FOOD blog, you say? Fine.

Andale ("Let's go!" in Spanish) is just okay. I don't mean "okay" in that well-yesterday-I-dined-at-the-French-Laundry,-where-did-YOU-eat? way; this is coming from a girl who loves the whole spectrum of dining establishments. And Andale, in my opinion, is overrated. The hostess wouldn't smile or make eye contact, but the waiter was efficient and friendly and knowledgeable, and made lots of recommendations, which we followed. The appetizers were scrumptious (we had the queso fundito con chorizo and totopas con Mariscos...hot little tortillas topped with crabmeat, shrimp, Manchego, and avocado salsa) as were the sides (mashed sweet potatoes, roasted corn puree). But the entrees didn't live up to the rest of the meal. The pan-seared grouper fillet (with a sauce of toasted pumpkin seeds, garlic, sour cream and serrano chiles) was very nice, but the grilled pork porterhouse chop (in a red mole sauce of Ancho chiles, garlic, Mexican cinnamon and cloves) was dry. The one saving grace that guarantees I will be back? The margaritas are sublime. I had the Blue Agave, and a had a generous sip of the Slow Matador, with raspberry puree...a delicious if slightly disturbing mental image, considering the name and all.

I wonder if they serve huge bowls of mashed sweet potatoes at the bar....