My First Tacos In Guadalajara
Tacos are in my blood. Actually when I get cut I think I smell al pastor. On my first night in Guadalajara, I thought of wandering and finding a grocery store, until I saw it. It was the lone street vendor within a 5 block radius, with 3 different families enjoying what they had to offer. I was 2 blocks away, and gave up the idea of grocery shopping at 11pm in Guadalajara. I walk up, quickly examine what was making my nose aroused, and pull up a seat. It is a wife and husband and their two young boys running the joint. The wife asks if I would like to eat there and what I was hungry for. Forget asking prices, that wasn’t an option. They weren’t trying to sell me on anything, they knew what they had for me to eat was going to be well worth my money.
The kids hollered at me to sell me a water bottle or soda, but that would just take up valuable taco space in my belly. I thought of going for carne asada which the man was just chopping up, but I've too many grizzly beef tacos, some tasting pretty bland. I was craving al pastor, but then she mentioned abodaba. That is exactly what I wanted to hear. “Cuatro por favor”. I thought I knew what street tacos were until I was served a plate of smaller than TJ tacos and doubled up on the tortillas of course. Cilantro and onions, yes; guacamole, yes; salsa picante, bring it! Two more please, and while I am waiting I’ll take some of those radishes, limes, and salt.
There wasn’t a single business open within blocks. It was a bright light amongst the darkness. My first night could have ended there and I would have been overjoyed. Thank you street vendor, you are my hero. The best 30 pesos ever spent.
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