So you'd been going to your favourite taco truck for goodness knows how long and had successfully achieved "regular" status. The truck guys knew you came for the al pastor and that you wanted it so freaking hot, you'd weep red-faced and yell out expletives in between bites of bean, rice and meat. Sometimes you were even lucky enough to get a buck knocked off the price for this experience. It was a wonderful time. Then you ran off to Istanbul for seven months and upon your return, this established relationship vanished. Different eyes peer at you through the glass. Now there's sour cream in your burrito and your eyes are still dry after the second bite. Then you realise you've got carnitas in your hands and not your beloved al pastor. What happened? Nevertheless, it's a damn fine burrito. The carnitas melts in your mouth, the cilantro makes itself known and the juice cascades all over your hands with each bite. You need every single napkin in the pile you are given. As soon as you devour that juicy folded end piece of tortilla, you know you need to return tomorrow for another, reminding yourself to make sure you do get the al pastor and ask for the sour cream to be held.
El Tonayense Taco Truck is parked on Harrison and 22nd Street. Seriously, some of the tastiest tacos and burritos around.
2 comments:
i felt like that the first time i returned to charleroi in belgium, three years after leaving there, and the turkish people whom i saw and spoke to almost every day when i would get my mitraillette de dinde with frites had gone gone gone, though the place and the frites and the dinde remained. They still remembered me in the pub across the road though!
That's good! Luckilly I have some coffeeshops that still remember me :)
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