The long anticipated afternoon was here, the lunch of the food truck. Food trucks are a new phenomenon in Boston. I began to smell the trucks long before lunch began, and I heard my stomach grumble immediately. At long last it was time and I raced towards the scents.
Outside, the smells were intoxicating, scents of basil mixed with beef, spice and sugar. I ran to the first truck I saw, cheerful red, and promising delicious Mexican food, another thing Boston sorely lacks. I placed my order, two tacos and a tamale. When it arrived I ignored the comments of those around me, and the clicking of their cameras, trying to capture the beautiful meal that would soon fill my belly. The first bite- chicken taco with a perfect mole sauce. Sweet, spicy, & fairly smoky- it was mole like I had always imagined. The chicken stood it's ground against the strong flavor, and offered gamey satisfaction.
A perfect taco to this North Easterner...the flavors of the West lingering on my palate. I looked up and realized that my crush on the Pacific North West was quickly turning into a forbidden love affair. I hope Boston doesn't find out.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Restaurant Reviews: A dead art?
Last December I declared 2023 the year I would return to food writing. It was a bold statement (even now as I look at my last published dat...
-
I have been loving my collaborations with the great folks at I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. It seems they are hosting fun Twitter...
-
Ever since I was a kid I remember HoneyBaked Hams at friends holiday parties. I relished the salty ham and the crispy sweet exterior, o...
-
This past summer I had the incredibly joy to host my very first Nespresso give away. The winner of the Pixie machine with Aeroccino+ was s...
No comments:
Post a Comment