Talking About Tacos: An Essay

Every trip to Mexico starts with four tacos. This has always been my way for as long as I’ve been coming here.

Tonight: I found a truly lovely restaurant after a long day of travel. No sooner than I sat my bags down in the hotel, I walked two blocks to my new favorite restaurant in La Paz. I was starving.

It was 6 pm. I was the early bird. I was the only patron. My goal was to order, eat, and go before it got busy. It seemed a local kind of a place. Im definitely not local. Let them dial in the heat to my meal, so it’s ready for the rush. I’m happy to oblige.

First thing: Ice cold Negra Modelo. One of two. Steinbeck said, “ The first beer is for thirst, the second for flavor.” And he’s right!

The first washes away the road dust, and prepares your soul for Mexican food. The second offers harmony to the meal.

I always like over achieving beers.

I ordered 4 tacos. Two of the classic arrachura variety, and two unknown, poor Spanish language skills variety picked off the menu by instinct.

They offered two bite toast with garlic chili oil to drizzle as an apertif. I’m going to bring this one to my own table. It is wonderful.

And then the tacos came. There is such pleasure and anticipation with the meal yet untouched, but its time drawing nigh. Let your other senses feast before your taste!

I took the little spoons of salsa, chilies, and pico and drizzled a smattering of each upon my first offering.

I ate with gusto, and I ate with pleasure, and I ate with intention. “And I ate one of the best meals of my….” We ALL say this.

And it’s a fine thing.

I complimented and paid, tipping based on pure happiness than obligation. We should all strive to tip this way. It’s a new theory of mine that may have merit.

As I walked home, I thought not for the first time, “If I die now, at least I’ll die happy.” And it was true! Not my death (so far), but my happiness in a great meal in good conditions.

As I age, it seems to be all about the food. It brings such joy to our lives, yet it’s simple and eternal.

When one of my older brothers has a good meal, he claims, “It’s better than sex.” Which always made me think he was doing it wrong. But maybe he’s on to something.

I think I’m on to something, but I’ll let you decide. Buen Provecho!