TheBanyanTree: The Great Taco Search of 2008

[Monique Colver]

WARNING: This post contains no political content, unless you consider tacos
in and of themselves to be political.

                We search for the perfect taco as some search for the
perfect religion. (This is not meant to promote one religion over another,
nor is it meant to imply that tacos are on the same spiritual plane as
religion. It is merely meant as a comment on our commitment to finding the
perfect taco.) I crave the tacos of Mexico, where one can get a plate of
carnitas tacos and a cerveza for a few pesos, or whatever they're using for
money these days. Unfortunately, I don't get to Mexico much these days, it
being far south of where I am, and my husband having no desire to go there
at all. ("We can get perfectly good tacos in the US," he says, as if that
were somehow the point.)

                There are tacos, and then there are tacos. There are
American tacos, which were created to pander to the homogenous taste of the
American, a creature who wouldn't know a good taco even if smacked in the
head by one. Sometimes I have a craving for just such a taco, for I am an
American, and I am prone to all the same faults as all other Americans. But
sometimes I want an un-American taco. Before calling Homeland Security on
me, please be advised that this does not mean I want to live anywhere else,
nor do I want to embrace the culture of another country, believing it
somehow superior to my own. I just want a freakin' taco is all.

                We find a coupon for a taco place that is reputed to have
excellent tacos. "We must try this!" we say, knowing that it is a gamble. It
is such a gamble that when we arrive at the taco place reputed to have the
excellent tacos we shudder. We are still Americans, and the taco place
causes us concern. There are no other customers. We're not sure, based on
the signage, if this IS the taco place. It could be an off-site gambling
parlor for all we can tell. It could be a front for a respectable taco
business. We see, sitting inside, a child, doing her homework. She's
apparently the only occupant, so perhaps she's in charge of the tacos.
Perhaps the taco business has been sold and the building now serves as a
repository for children, a place for them to, one at a time, do their
homework. I've heard of such places.

I'd like to say we try it out and we find amazing tacos, but we don't. We
head to our next destination, unwilling to venture outside our comfort zone,
but we do find truly great tacos, though admittedly the place we find them
is a bit more upscale. But the tacos are cheap and plentiful, and the
cerveza is good (or would be, if I were prone to drinking cerveza, but I'm
not), and we are happy with our discovery.
                Apparently what I really want is a great taco that's served
in a somewhat familiar environment, i.e., one that appears clean and
American. I am a lazy American, safe and secure in my own place. How
appalled I should be at myself! It's not as if I haven't spent time in other
countries, investigating other possibilities. It's not as if I have no sense
of adventure, though I sometimes think adventure of the external variety is
often overrated. I should be appalled at myself, but I'm not. I've found
great tacos and, for that matter, pretty good burritos too, and really, what
else matters?

MC