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tl;dr review: taqueria el trompo loco   ---  5/17/2009 8:38:31 PM
rating: 4 of whatever this ends up being rated in for the food; 5 in the moment, call it a 5.

let me get this over with: heineken? fuck that shit.

okay, so, sometimes a meal is just _right_.

today wasn't looking good. i left home mad, and i got to work madder, and before an hour passed i was looking for someone to nail my resignation letter to. lunchtime finally slunk in and i needed comfort food. i was scheming for salumi or collins pub or chili joe's pasta or something when the PBR150 core crew started making noise about setting out. word is, there's a mexican place batting leadoff that looks hot, so now i'm thinking about something other than trying to walk the thin line between CLM and jail time. i glue myself to geary until we get out of the building, and as soon as we're outside i'm relaxing.

brief aside: i don't know what the PBR150 core ruling is going to be on taking travel time into account; it seems a little unfair, like blaming a restaurant for being in spain or something, so in general i think i'll discount travel, except to mention: emmett really wanted to beat that train.

we get there, no restaurant, taco truck. now, i'm more risk-averse than the CIA after the bay of pigs, but today i'm loose, so i wave with it. i get out and scan the sign, and amongst all the beauty: lengua, tripe, cabeza. this makes me happy. not that i'm going to eat them today, but i've been watching enough zimmern to think i might.

ordering, geary sets the four-taco standard, and we all toe the line. and wait. and the smell is other-worldly. we're right by traffic, and there are by-the-hour motels and like pipe testing facilities or something nearby, and of all the things you'd expect to smell, a meat aroma sonata wouldn't be on the list. also, "a meat aroma sonata" looks like it ought to be a palindrome. or a band name.

we wait. jokes are told. the proprietress of the taco truck is friendly and informative and inexplicably apologetic because cooking things takes time, and i'm smiling. then come the tacos. THE TACOS.

the tacos look like what i see on the tv shows of people who i wish i were eating street food in places i wish i were. in. a little pile of various meats, cilantro, diced onion and radish, lime wedges, and the telltale orange of jabanero salsa. picking bits of meat off, i rate: the beef options are beefy, and maybe a little dry; the al pastor is sweet and delicious; and the chorizo is rich and spicy. eating the tacos, i rate: yeah. the beef options are merely wonderful; the richness of the suadero gives it a little leg over its peer. the al pastor is still sweet and delicious, and the chorizo might be better still; i'll need a few dozen more of each to be sure.

CUE SCRUBS PENSIVE END-OF-EPISODE MUSIC:
i get back to work, still buzzing from the jabanero and still jazzing from finding comfort food outside my comfort zone. i even get some work done.