Let's taco 'bout it

As this class comes to a close, I think it’s only appropriate to give my favorite meal on this taco taste-testing tour the past semester.

My choice would have to be Tacos N Madre while I was in Ocklawaha, Florida over spring break. Those tacos were some of the best I had ever eaten. The people I got to experience it with are all my favorites. The fact that I was in sunny Florida was a wonderful touch for sure. And the overall review of the restaurant along with the employees was incredible. I loved everything about the trip there. The taco stand, Nalu’s Tropical Take-Out, came in a very close second, but mostly because they weren’t your typical tacos. I love authentic, corn-tortilla’d, cilantro-filled, carne asada steaming tacos, so I chose what I considered the best. Although it wasn’t in Kentucky, I would have to say my favorite place in Kentucky — particularly in Lexington — would have to be Gran Tako. The food is made so perfectly and their carne asada is so tender. I loved it.

On March 29th, we got the opportunity to have a Skype interview session, a writer for the food section of Vice called Munchies. Our class was featured in one of his articles earlier this year including an interview with our professor, Dr. Steven Alvarez. (If you’d like to read Cabral’s article, click here!)

In this article, Cabral really focused on asking questions to understand all the the class was about. One of my favorite things our professor said about this class, WRD 422: Taco Literacy when he was asked, “What does homework look like in your class?” Dr. Alvarez responded,

“At the very end of the course, my students will be generators of knowledge, have a portfolio full of multimedia food journalism, and they will be over the fajita stage of Mexican food.”

This quote, nearing the end of this class still rings true. I am at the very end of this course with exactly 8 days until my last assignment is due and 13 days until I graduate undergrad at UK and I can happily say this class has prepared me, if not overprepared me and allowed me to take a peek into a telescope focusing on something I didn’t know tons about beforehand. Now, I can look back and say I truly do feel as though I am a generator of knowledge, and I have this wonderful portfolio site full of multimedia food journalism. And more than anything, I will scream from the rooftops — I AM OVER THE FAJITA STAGE OF MEXICAN FOOD. I have seen the light!!

All this to say, we decided to do a reversal of roles — we Skyped Javier Cabral to ask him about food writing, how he got into it, and what is looks like working for Vice.

Javier Cabral told us about what his work day looks like — consisting of writing about an article a day. Pretty stressful stuff, but he loves it. He loves getting paid to try food (which he assured us he was overly passionate about!) and also writing about it (his other passion!). The way he described his work day overwhelmed me — having a pending deadline due everyday.. It seems so stressful to me. But at the same time, he expressed that there’s times that he can’t think about what to write about, so the last minute ideas really challenge him to run with his ideas and branch off of them.

One of my classmates asked how Cabral got into food writing and one of the coolest parts of the interview was when Cabral told us how he had loved writing since he was really young and began a portfolio when he was about 14 years old I believe. He discussed his absolute love for writing and how going to college but not finishing actually led him to write for the Muchies column at Vice. Javier Cabral seems so dedicated to writing and food that it all began so early and he has pursued it ever since then.

Getting to chat with Javier Cabral was really interesting to see that if you’re passionate about something, you will work as hard as you can — even if it means having pending deadlines hanging over your head everyday when you wake up (that makes my head hurt). He loves what he does and is incredible at it.

Thanks for taking the time to talk to us, Javier!

If you’d like to keep up with Javier Cabral, follow him on Twitter & Instagram:
Instagram: @theglutster (https://www.instagram.com/theglutster/)
Twitter: @theglutster (https://twitter.com/theglutster)

It was the second to last night before we trekked the 12+ hour trip back to Lexington. The majority of everyone at the camp we were staying at in Ocklawaha, Florida went to Disney World for the day. We had the option to not go, so about 20 of us decided to make our own fun and stay at the camp to have volleyball tournaments, swim, and play soccer. Later that night, though, we had quite the appetite from all of the exhaustion from the physical activity. My college, haven’t-played-organized-sports-regularly-since-high-school body was hurting and tired. I had the time of my life, but I needed a good, hit-the-spot kind of meal for dinner. It was decided — MEXICAN.

There was a restaurant about 25 minutes away (which wasn’t far since the camp was in the middle of nowhere) that my roommate Jamisen had reserved for all of us. It was the closest Mexican restaurant we could find. “Tacos N Madre” was the name. The Spanish geek in me giggled at the name. We drove for about 45 minutes instead of 25 and then finally arrived at this little strip of restaurants on the side of a big road. The bright yellow sign shined bright and hung high in the sky.

The bright sign hanging in the sky

“The Best AUTHENTIC” it read with clip art of chili peppers, campesinos in sombreros, and cacti adorned the sign as well. This place looked like it could barely fit 5 of us. We crammed in to the restaurant and scattered ourselves among the open tables that were smushed together anticipating our arrival. This seemed like it was not a common place among most Floridians and that majority of white people usually don’t come often considering the stares of confusion.

I was not phased. One of my favorite things is to go to restaurants where Spanish is primarily spoken because the customers are also primarily Spanish-speaking. I love it because since I am able to speak Spanish, I feel as though I can literally feel the stereotypes breaking and a gap being bridged between people. It’s an incredible feeling being able to communicate in a language that is not my mother language with other people who may only be able to speak that language. It’s fun seeing the meseras’ surprised face when they’re about to take my order as I say, “En espanol, por favor?”.

A terribly produced pano pictures featuring the crew packed in like sardines!

I chose to go with my usual this time — tacos. I was too hungry to spend time looking for another option. The menu had a collection of options — front and back with fairly small font. As my friends and I made small talk to avoid thinking about our hunger and to keep from saying rude things regarding the long wait, we found out there was a mini tres leches dessert cake you could get. My jaw dropped. I remembered helping my sister make tres leches cakes plenty of times when I was younger and being obsessed with it, so all of my nostalgia was being made whole again by Tacos N Madre. There was no doubt in my mind I was ordering one later.

So many options!!

Tacos N Madre was a little understaffed to handle us that night with only about three women serving in the entire restaurant, but it was evident they were working to the best of their abilities to feed us. My table’s server, Sandra — a short, polite woman who knew her stuff. She whisked around our table of about 20 in about 10 minutes. It may have taken a while to drive there, order, get our food, and eat it, but overall, Tacos N Madre had the BEST tacos (truly) I think I have ever tasted. I had never been to a taqueria that wrapped their tacos in papery holders, but this place did. Sided with rice, extra rice, and (my favorite) a pina-flavored Jarritos, I began melting.

This carne asada was to die for. Paired with cilantro and onions, the combination was perfect. A few times in Lexington when I have been to Ellos on South Broadway I have gotten these tacos and they’re amazing, but I think Tacos N Madre outdid themselves. Not too much onion and not too much cilantro, but plenty of carne asada. It’s like Sandra read my mind and knew exactly what I needed.

Two tacos de carne asada with wrapping similar to tissue paper and LOTS of rice!

As we all chowed down, each person was satisfied. We were ranting and raving about how incredible the food was. It was well worth our 2 and a half hour trip there and back.

Next up was the tres leches cake. I was so mesmerized that I forgot to take a picture. This drinkable-looking cake was scooped out and put into a clear, plastic cup about the size of a coffee mug. They topped this masterpiece with whipped cream and an amaretto cherry. A little more liquid-y than the last I remembered eating Tres Leches, but nonetheless downright WONDERFUL. Every single bite it seemed as though it got better and better. The the milks joined together to make the perfect sweet and satisfying dessert. Usually when you have a dessert, you need something to wash it down, but this Tres Leches cake was two in one! Bite by bite I surprised myself that I could hold down that much food considering how full I was.

As we headed to the cash register and headed out, Sandra and I said our goodbyes and she wished us safe travels saying, “Cuidate!” or “Take care of yourself!”. This experience was one for the books and all I could think about was how so many friends missed out because they went to Disney World. Haha!

Tacos N Madre, I love you. 

We will miss you more than you know, Tacos N Madre!

The relief of finishing the final assignments before Spring Break showered over me (praaaaise!!). I could not wait to finally be able to fully rest for a week during a much anticipated and needed “descanso”, or “rest” for those of you non-Spanish speakers. Florida couldn’t get here soon enough!! Not only was I excited for the ocean breeze whipping my hair around, seafoam tickling my toes, and the sweet Florida sunshine bronzing (or frying?) my skin, but also, I couldn’t wait to get out of Lexington to try tacos from a different region for this class!!

St. Augustine, Florida was the first stop on the way down. The eventual destination was Ocklawaha, Florida, but we had a few places to go before getting to Ocklawaha on Sunday. When we got off the interstate after what seemed like 12 years of traveling instead of 12 hours, everyone was awake, happy, and ready to have sand in between their toes. Despite how our bodies might have felt — mine being exhausted and hungry and poorly redsted with a kink in my back — we were without a doubt bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. We wound down the windows and turned up the music as we crossed over the Matanzas River. Once getting off the bridge, we passed a small taco truck on the way to the parking lot for the beach and we decided that was where we were going for dinner later. It was close, it seemed cheap, and it looked cool — it met all the requirements.

We arrived and parked. Running away from the car as fast as possible towards the beach, each of the six of us stretched our legs that had been crammed tightly in confined areas full of pillows, snacks, wires controlling music, and other napping bodies all day. I felt as free as could be. I had long awaited this trip. The consensus was to just rest on the beach from the drive, meaning no swim suits. We were just going to either lie on some beach towels or hang up a hammock in between two palm trees (the dreaaaam!) to take a little “siesta”. None of that happened. We wrote in the sand, had competitions for who could do the fastest crab walk, ate some snacks, threw a frisbee. Still exhausted, but now starving, we thought it was a good to head out to the taco shack nearby.

Pictures on the beach (selfie stick, of course — we wouldn’t be tourists without it!)

“Nalu’s Tropical Takeout,” it read.

Never in my 22 years of living had I ever had a tropical taco. My mouth was salivating. I was like a little kid in a candy store. “GIVE ME ALL THE TACOS,” my stomach was demanding. As R. Kelly put it, “MY MIND’S TELLIN’ ME NOOOOO… BUT MY STOMACH, MY STOMACH’S TELLIN’ ME YESSSSSSS!” That how it goes, right?

The aroma coming from the truck were delightful. It smelled as though a citrus-y and fruity flavored barbecue was brisking the air. Since we were in Florida, everything was mostly fresh seafood. I’m not huge into seafood, but shrimp and certain types of fish I can do, especially for this experience since it was fresh as can be. I ordered the “tropical shrimp tacos” with a meal description of it containing shrimp, mango, black bean salsa, cilantro, tropical cole slaw, cheddar jack cheese, and lime.

Zach, Brittany, Janie, Kaylee, Kaitlyn, Ross, and Zach & Brittany’s twins… or are they?

“Casey!!” they yelled out my name. I couldn’t wait. Everything about this spot was perfect. The colors, the fact that it was so close to the beach, the Hawaiian feel to the taco truck, every single dish being full of tropical flavors. I basically ran to the window that had humidity billowing out of it. Enclosed in a Styrofoam tray, I grabbed the container, thanking the cooks, and sat next to my friends at a table surrounded by a bedazzled fence with pieces of seaside artwork of mermaids, sunsets, and waves, giving the aesthetic a livened-up, warm, welcoming feel to it.

The beauty that is Tropical Shrimp Tacos (heart eye emoji)

I cupped the taco in my hand, clenching the top to keep the ingredients from tumbling out. I sunk my teeth into the flour tortilla, and I knew this was a great decision. The mango and black bean salsa made my taste buds jerk in the best way possible. The grilled shrimp marinated in a little bit of spice made my tongue burn and my nose sweat. It was spicy, but it was so worth it. I didn’t even care; all I wanted was to absolutely devour every bit of this meal as soon as possible.

Right on the side of the road that led to the beach 1.5 miles away!

Taco squad celebrating making it to Florida and loving Nalu’s!

This incredible meal came along with a side of rice, yet it had a greenish or neon yellowish tint to it. Confused, yet intrigued, I tasted it. It was white rice, but for some reason it was green. It didn’t taste any different except the consistency was stickier and it was topped with something called “baja sauce” which was similar consistency to mayonaise and ranch dressing mixed together. It was a little spicy for my liking. I searched for a a replica of this strange rice to see the background story of it, but I think it is unique to Nalu’s Tropical Takeout — there was nothing about tinted white rice. Even on the menu it is labeled as just “rice”. Either way, I thoroughly enjoyed it. There was nothing that could make this experience better. I didn’t think there was much else that could make it better either… until we discovered A SNO-CONE STAND RIGHT NEXT DOOR. God bless. It was the best day ever. If I’m ever in Saint Augustine, Florida again, I will be hunting down this taco stand. If I had to rate it, I would give it an 11 out of 10.

“While maize and beans alone lack vital amino acids, cooking them together complements the value of their proteins as well as their tastes. The invention of ceramic vessels was therefore important to the development of the sedentary, agrarian Olmec society in the absence of protein from domesticated animals. A final nutritional defect of maize is the shortage of usable niacin, a vitamin needed to prevent the disease pellegra, which is characterized by skin rash, intestinal problems, insanity, and death. Maize could not become the dietary staple for dense urban populations until cooks discovered the nixtamal process in which limestone or wood ash freed the chemically bound vitamin. However nutritionally sound, the recipe for tortillas required enormous physical labor from women. Arguably, they worked as hard grinding corn on the metate as did the men they fed who constructed the physical monuments of Teotihuacán, the pyramids of the Sun and the Moon.” (Pilcher 26, 27)

“A sense of authenticity, based on historic traditions of foods tied to particular locations, can be welcomed refuge from the threat of global homogenization. Nevertheless, efoorts to trace a genealogy for a national cuisine confront basic historical problems, starting with the fact the pre-Hispanic peoples were not “Mexican.”” (Pilcher 21)

Works Cited

Pilcher, Jeffrey M.. Planet Taco. New York: Oxford University Press, 2012.

While I was on Facebook the other day, I found this political video about what Bernie Sanders has done for the families in Imokalee, Florida. I do not share this with the intentions of making any sort of political statement on here. I just realized Professor Alvarez had posted something about the Immokalee workers targeting Wendy’s, which you can read here!

I think this video really helps show just exactly what the workers in Immokalee are going through and rather than dehumanizing people, it shows that these ARE people too that are really struggling. It gives them a voice to be heard and has a powerful message. The Coalition of Immokalee Workers is really and it is still happening.

The next stop: La Michoacán de Lexington –La Paletería y Nievería! That’s every ice cream lover’s dream — a popsicle and ice cream shop in English!

La Michoacan in all its glory!

This little place is located right next to Gran Tako, famous in class for the cutting of the El Pastor outside, the Friday night karaoke where one man walks around and hogs the mic, and incredible food. All decked out in pink, this place was a good reason to freak out!

Al pastor at Gran Tako, right outside La Michoacan!

If there’s one thing I love, it would be fresh fruit and vegetables. Honestly.. That’s no lie. I am that girl that doesn’t have to be reminded to “eat her veggies” because she’d rather be eating some carrots and cucumber instead of a double fudge brownie and cupcakes doused in blue icing that makes your entire mouth lose any shade of pink. Don’t judge; I am who I am. All that to say, I still can still inhale a cupcake in one second, but my palate just seems to prefer fruits and veggies. Weird, eh?

It would be an immense understatement to say that I was exhilarated to get a Mexican popsicle made out of FRESH FRUIT. GAH. I could cry. It’s three of my favorite things in one: popsicles, Mexico, and fresh fruit.

When I walked into this place, I was a little kid in a candy store. I was apalled by all of the options. All of the color drew me in. There was so much. There was ice cream, fruity drinks, milk-based popsicle, water-based popsicles, snacks, EVERYTHING. This was the mothership of them all.

I just kept saying over and over and over again to Jenna, “I’m literally going to come here every.single.day this summer!!! Seriously!! This place is incredible!!!” For someone only knowing me less than a semester, she handled my crazy way too well. Not only could she handle it, she was on my level of crazy and excitement too. We were freaking out together and absolutely could not believe the sight before us.

We paced up and down the tiny aisle of windows of ice cream trying to make a decision. Every person in the class seemed dumb-founded as if their faces were saying, “Where do I even begin?!”

Mmm, so many flavors of ice cream!

All the popsicles your heart could desire!

I had trouble making up my mind, as usual. I couldn’t even come close to narrowing it down. I kept going back and forth between mango or watermelon. I fixed my eyes on the watermelon; that was the one. The man handed it to me and despite the fact that there was a frozen bar in my hand, I was internally melting. I couldn’t wait to try it.

Then, suddenly, as my eyes shifted across the menu full of flavors, I saw it..
CUCUMBER WITH CHILE. What?!?! I knew I wanted to try it.

I couldn’t believe it — a cucumber (pepino) flavored popsicle?!

“You love cucumbers, Casey. You should trade it in. But.. but.. there’s chile powder on it.. It could be too spicy! Ugh, what to do, what to do,” I thought. I traded the watermelon in for the cucumber. I peeled the plastic wrap off and took a taste.

Now remember, I love vegetables, especially cucumbers. But this.. this was something from the underworld. There was nothing about this popsicle that settled well with me. What was I thinking? A cucumber popsicle?! It tasted salty. No popsicle was ever meant to taste salty. I was disappointed. Everyone seemed to be loving theirs. I knew I should have gotten a fruity one.

Once I had had too much, I threw it out. I felt bad because I really wanted to like it, but I just couldn’t.  I knew I wanted one that I enjoyed, so I decided to buy a different one. This time it was strawberries and cream. The man working seemed confused when I asked him for a second, as if he had been keeping track of my cucumber popsicle and it had magically disappeared, which it

My second popsicle — strawberries & cream! YUM!

basically had.

I waited anxiously for approval of my debit card so I could eat the popsicle in all of its fullness, but waiting seemed like a million years.

For the second time I peeled the plastic wrap away and didn’t even look back. That popsicle was the smallest piece of creamy, fruity, smooth perfection I had ever met. I am at a loss of words describing the emotions that I experienced. We headed out to the van since the majority of my classmates were finished. But since I went back for “seconds”, I finished in the van. I could get over the fact that it tasted like a strawberry milkshake on a stick. I contemplated buying 10 and storing them in my freezer at home, but realized they would most likely melt on the bus ride back.

I wiped my face while giggling at trying to strategically finish the popsicle without it landing on the floor of the bus. Unfortunately, I didn’t succeed, but, fortunately, I made it onto the napkin, so no messes were made. The only messes that were made were the napkin looking like a someone had just cleaned up Pepto Bismol and my emotions from leaving a place that I gave a part of my heart to.

Mexington on 3… 1, 2, 3… MEXINGTON!

Best day ever!

Paleta pals!

Okay, okay, more like Birria tasing!

Saturday was full of fun adventures on our “Taco Tour” for class! The  first stop was Birrieria Jalisco and then La Michoacan de Lexington: Nieveria y Paleteria.

After meeting on campus, climbing into a creepy white van, and getting stuck in a little bit of traffic, we finally made it to the much-anticipated Birreria Jalisco. Never have I ever seen nor heard of this place. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been near it.. Besides that one time I went to the Tae-Kwon-Do place next door with a friend on bring-a-friend-for-free day *digs forehead into hands out of embarrassment* Nonetheless, I sure am glad I really know about it now!

The plaza the Birrieria Jalisco is in and an excited Jenna

Entering the restaurant, we were greeted by many confusing looks by customers that read “What are all these people doing here?” or “Where’d you all come from?”, but never in a rejection-kind-of way. At least I felt more welcomed than ever.

The bright, creamsicle orange walls adorned with fun, yard-sale-find looking trinkets

The conveyor belt of  kitchen counter and orange walls 

gave me nostalgia, reminding me of my parents yellow-orange kitchen back home and my mom’s home-style cooking. If anything, it made me feel at home and that much hungrier. I was ready. Too ready.

My friend Jenna and I stood in awe as they made tortillas from the masa we pointed out, sitting in a small metal tub on the counter. “Tengo una pregunta,” I said, telling her I had a question regarding whether the tub did indeed contain masa. She affirmed and a sense of pride and relief rushed through me for two reasons: one, being able to apply and see something I had learned about in class, and two, using my first lick of Spanish with the employees and being able to get those initial “am I going to say this wrong?” nerves out of my system.

Taking it all in, we found the most prized possession: the Jarritos collection. “Wow, this place has so many flavors compared to Local Taco. YES!” I verbalized my thoughts. I insisted Jenna get a pineapple or “piña ” flavored one, almost in a micro-managing way because of my unbridled obsession.

In the corner of the restaurant, we occupied the back two tables, marking our territory by shoving some tables together so we could eat like a family — because we, without a doubt, are a family. We’re a Taco Lit family. We looked over the menu anxiously.

Birrieria Jalisco’s menu!

As much as I wanted to stay under my security blanket of tacos, I knew I had to try the birria, considering how much we had talked about it in class. The question was, though, do I get the birria made with goat (called “chivo” on the menu) or made with beef (called “res” on the menu)? Since I have had beef before, I decided to go out on a limb and try goat for the first time. And may I just say, it was the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time, as the kids like to call it these days — haha!)

I’ll be honest, when the mesera brought out the huge bowl of it, I was skeptical of the large chunks of meat and how I was even going to take a bite. I searched for a tenedor to maybe help me saw the chunks in half, but there wasn’t one to be found in the rolled up silverware — only spoons and forks. I rolled with the punches and rolled up my sleeves.

The first bite was interesting. I was surprised that it wasn’t spicy due to the fact that everything that people say isn’t spicy at all usually is too much for me to consume. But it truly wasn’t. This place was already fitting to my liking and it was just the first bite!

It took me a while to get over the fact that I was eating a goat, especially as I saw images of a cute baby goat from a video I saw just the day before pop up in my head. Quickly, I tried to be distracted to erase the sadness that could possibly overtake me if I got carried away. I’m not a vegetarian by any means, but every once in a while, I think about those things and die a little inside.

Birria en jugo de chivo — beautiful isn’t it?

Bite after bite, I found myself devouring this incredible stew-like dish, every once in a while uncomfortably picking out pieces of bone to ensure I don’t swallow those as well. Some might think this is hazardous,

All smiles for fresh tortillas!

but I think it allowed the goat meat to be the perfect consistency — tender and falling-off-the-bone. I couldn’t get enough.
Slowly but surely, the mesera came out periodically to hand out what looked like a packet of fre
sh tortillas to each student. Jenna, Rachel, and I gawked at the tortillas, overwhelmed that each of us got a pack of 4, still hot and freshly made tortillas wrapped in aluminum foil to take home.

And it was back to the bus we went, into the dreary, rainy day. It was easily a metaphor for how I felt leaving Birrieria Jalisco — sad and pitiful. Although the day didn’t reflect it, I couldn’t have picked better soup-eating weather. It was off to get some popsicles next, so we said our goodbyes, but I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I went there. I twould just be the beginning.

After taking a much-needed trip to Indianapolis, Indiana to visit a friend that recently moved there, I was able to finally try Gran Tako on my way back with my friends Mayra and Lupe. Mayra and Lupe are students at Bryan Station High School that I had the privilege of meeting through a Christian ministry that I volunteer with, called Young Life. Being a Spanish major, any chance I get to take part in Hispanic culture or to speak Spanish, I jump on it. Mayra and Lupe, both being Mexican, growing up in Aguascalientes and Chiapas, help this gringa to really understand and be a part of the Hispanic community. Any questions I have about food, mannerisms, translations of Spanish words, or culture, these girls always come in clutch. We have a very unique friendship. I fortunately got to meet them while helping drive high school students to a retreat in Louisville. That was two years ago. Now, fast forward to this month, we’re spending a weekend visiting my best friend and their old Young Life leader, Emily. After painting walls until 3 in the morning, then waking up 6 hours later to move furniture into Emily’s new house, we grew up quite the appetite.

We decided that we would make a quick stop at McDonald’s for the 3 hour trek back to Lexington, but all knew we would still be hungry once we got back.

“Casey, let’s get tacos when we get back!!” Mayra exclaimed through the echoes of Justin Bieber in the car.

“HECK YES!!!” I shouted, overly excited that I finally had the opportunity to go with these girls. I had been anticipating going to Gran Tako for a while since hearing about it in class, and these girls affirmed all the rave about it for me. Mayra would send me snapchats everyday of how she was there, in which would cause me to send back a jealous selfie asking when we could all go together.

LOW AND BEHOLD, THAT DAY FINALLY CAME. I finally got the gran experiencia of Gran Tako. Although this Gran Tako isn’t the same one that we talked about in class (the one on Alexandria Drive), it was a sister restaurant to it, being on East New Circle Road. Same idea. Close enough, right?!

Once we pulled in the parking lot, I recognized the plaza it was in. Then, I saw it. The chunk of meat gouged on a metal rod, being cooked and cut by an employee just outside the door. That’s al pastor for ya. Exactly how we had seen it on the video of the other Gran Tako.

Feeling antsy, I began walking up to the counter thinking that I ordered there, until I was embarrassingly pulled on the arm by Mayra directing me to a table and laughing at me. Between the humidity in the air in the restaurant from the steam and the embarrassment of not knowing what to do in this new situation, I couldn’t tell which I was sweating from. Honestly, it was probably both.

Tacos were the obvious order. I just had to have them. I needed them. And a Piña Jarritos, of course.

Looking at the menu, contemplating whether or not I should get something different, I was overcome with hunger and excitement, thinking, “Man, I want more Latino friends.” I love getting to use my Spanish at Mexican restaurants (or anywhere really!), and getting to use it with friend who ALSO speak the language is great. Rather than ordering and your friends snickering at you in the process like you’re embarrassing them because you’re the only person at the table that speaks Spanish, it actually feels good to instead, finish ordering and your friends say “Good job, Casey!!” as they proceed to also order in Spanish. It’s nice having friends that know a lot about what you’re studying too, so you get to pick their brains on how the food you’re eating is made. THE BEST, I tell you!

Lupe and I so excited to eat some tacos!!

Really digging in!

Tacos de carne asada were my go-to. It came with avacado, onions, cilantro, radishes, and lime. Wrapped in fresh corn tortillas, of course, boy, oh, boy, were these taco incredible!

Tacos de carne asada!

I had two, but decided to order more because, as I said, we grew up quite the appetite. Haha! Everyone was apparently in the mood for tacos because we all got the same thing. Avacados are one of most-prized greens, so I was may or may not have completely flipped out when my tacos came because they came on top.

Less than 15 minutes later, we were finished. We crushed those tacos. It looked like a crime scene happened. With full bellies, we finally headed to the front counter, basically waddling like pregnant penguins we were so full, where, we paid for our food. Completely and utterly satisfied, we three agreed that we had to come back again together. It was a phenomenal trip to Gran Tako.