Where do you go for lunch when it’s grey, cold and blustery? If you’re a simple little thing like me, you immediately start looking for Mexican food. Of course, I seek out taquerias when it’s hot and sunny, too, and anything in between. I love Mexican food, it must be my Texas childhood rearing its ugly head once again. Other people may think of tomato soup and grilled cheese as comfort food, but give me enchiladas any day.
I lived in Seattle for a while in my youth and it was the lack of dishes served with salsa that eventually drove me away. A year without tacos was all I could take.
I should make clear that the San Francisco Mexican food scene is far from the paragon available in Houston, but I have become resigned to it, certainly it’s better than what I had available to me in rainy Pacific Northwest, where I could have really used a chalupa or two. And I know there is plenty of misguided opinions against Tex-Mex cuisine. You know what I have to say to that? I say “Suck It Bitches.” I’m going to go get another order of tortillas. Corn, not flour.