Ode to Taco Trucks

I am a believer.

I believe in the Seattle Mariners, endorphins, handwritten notes, and taco trucks. Today I’m going to elaborate on taco trucks.

The essence of the taco truck is simple. You drive, walk, scooter, or skateboard up, are presented with a select menu of choices, order, wait patiently, and eat. There’s no fuss with chips and salsa or alcoholic beverages, most trucks don’t even have a place to sit down. Some exude the ‘hole in the wall’ feel, the kind that makes you wonder whether health codes are being followed.

I for one however, am not pretentious when it comes to good food. I have a natural tendency to flock to ‘hole in the walls’ and have learned to get over my societal induced fear of germs after 9 months abroad (it’s do or starve in Italy). You don’t just get what you pay for with taco trucks though, in this case the quality far exceeds expectations. You get a sense for what authentic, non-franchised Mexican food tastes like- and it tastes good.

I also believe that taco trucks are the ultimate cure for the blues. They’re the kind of place you go to with your best friend when you’re both feeling downright, absolutely lousy. Say for example, you’re suffering an existential crisis (Jeez…you’re as dramatic as I am) and your best friend’s all beat up about her ex-boyfriend. After about 10 minutes of crying on the floor of your bedroom, you hop in her car and drive a couple blocks to the taco truck in the abandoned gravel parking lot up the way. Several burritos, tortas, and Jarritos later, you’re feeling a bit better. You at least feel good enough to drive to the Dollar Tree to buy cutesy glass figurines for smashing purposes. But that’s a different story…

P.S.- According to this article by The News Tribune and the Tacoma-Pierce County Health Department, all of the taco trucks in Tacoma are up to standards. All fears suspended kids!

P.P.S.- I want her job so badly.