Thursday, June 13, 2013

Random Short Stories - Chapter 3

I have yet to find good Mexican food in New York. I'm sure there's perfectly fine Mexican food in New York but my problem is I come from California, San Diego specifically, and I was spoiled on what quality Mexican food is. Santana's (now MXN), Lucha Libre, El Indio, any number of one-name, Mexican sounding places (Roberto's, Alejandro's, and inexplicably Albertaco's), El Zarape, Cotixan (although the original isn't there anymore), and even any of the taco trucks are absolutely amazing. 

There were days when it was a breakfast burrito in the morning, California burrito in the afternoon, maybe a couple fish tacos after school, and carne asada fries and taquitos for dinner. Perfection.

Anyway, I've had to settle for Chipotle. There's nothing wrong with Chipotle, but it's just what you want. It's lacking in a lot of things that, to me, make Mexican food what it is. (Chances are, it's also what makes it unhealthy. But then, what ethnic food isn't? I mean, I'm Filipino. If I was eating like a Filipino, I'd be dead by 50.) Anyway, Chipotle's not a great substitute, but it suffices. And my short story concerns a curious eating habit I picked up because of Chipotle in Southern California.

A guy at Chipotle sat next to me to question my "strange" eating habit. 
So I explained to him, "I don't get guacamole in the burrito because they skimp on that and then it's never spread right. I get chips and guac, because then you get more guac. (Plus, chips.) And then I just use the chips to put the guac on my burrito as I eat it."
All the while, he was looking at me like I'd introduced him to the religion he'd been looking for.

No need to thank me, sir. I'm just a creative fat kid at heart who used to get munchies even if he wasn't high.