I probably should have posted this Friday, but considering it took me almost seven years to find my way inside Pancho’s Villa Mexican restaurant, a few days is nothing.

For years, I’ve heard one northeast Pasco County resident after another rave about the great food and atmosphere at Pancho’s, located in quiet downtown San Antonio, next to the venerable San Ann Market.

With two birthdays in the office in need of celebration last week, the work crowd elected to investigate Pancho’s for a lunchtime gathering.

I’m glad we did. Happily, everyone arrived around noon, just before a line started to form outside the door. It was soon clear that the praise I’d heard wasn’t unfounded. Before lunch arrived, our hungry crowd devoured baskets of chips, and bowls of Pancho’s authentic hot and mild sauces. I kept it simple with Pancho’s Nacho’s, a steaming-hot platter of chips, cheese, beef and an unholy number of jalapenos. When they asked if I wanted jalapenos, I said, “Yeah, but just a few.”

They must’ve thought I meant a few hundred.

Anyway, the number of peppers on my plate was indicative of the restaurant’s apparent practice of offering more than expected. The others had carnitas (pork cooked with cirtrus, piled fajita-style into a tortilla shell), ground beef and chicken chimichangas, chopped-beef gorditas and chicken salad.

By the time I was finished (and I did finish all 27 pounds of cholesterol), my gut was as distended as one of those kids in the old Sally Struthers commercials. Except my stomach was swelling with food, not inexplicably expanding over the lack of it.

Within hours, I was belching the chorus of “Low Rider.” (You want video proof?)

Given Pancho’s somewhat intimate confines, the decibel level made it a little hard to follow the discussion at our table, but by the time a band of nearby women left, I could have offered each of them rational advice regarding the myriad topics I overheard them discussing.

Throughout the meal, our hard-working waitress kept our glasses full and our orders straight. And it’s not like we were her only customers. The restaurant had more traffic than rush hour on nearby State Road 52, and the waitresses seemed to burn as many calories as they served.

Even if the food had been bad and over-priced, I might have simply enjoyed soaking in the celebrated taqueria’s quaint, traditional, bustling atmosphere.

In short, I can’t wait for a reason to go back. About any reason will do.

And now when people ask if I’ve eaten at Pancho’s, they won’t look at me like there’s something in my nose when I answer.