I love tacos. Did you know, or have I told you? I think I could eat them every day of my life, and be as happy as a bug in a rug. I will admit though that the tacos I fix now for my family are quite a bit different than the ones my muther used to fix me when I was a kid. You know the ones. Hard taco shell, ground hamburger, shredded lettuce, orange cheese, and a few tomatoes. Don’t get me wrong. I will eat one of these tacos too, especially if it’s the cheap ones from Taco Time, but I love the ones I make at home today.
For quite a few years my Jimmy and I would travel to Mexico, to a lovely little place in Mazatlan, every January. Way before the threat of drug lords kept us from going. We were always careful what we ate and drank since we didn’t want to get sick though. My mom and granny have horror stories of the yuckies they’ve come down with while on a trip to Mexico. At first I wouldn’t eat anything. I was too nervous. Especially a street taco. Meat on the street. Who knew what they might be plagued with. (James has since shared he ate way more scary things in Taiwan. Meat parts that were hanging from the ceiling donned his noodle bowl daily he has said. He had a gut of steel I’m sure!) Every vacation the most wonderful food would be paraded past us as different vendors would walk down the beach selling their stuff. Sunglasses, sombreros, toy, homemade doughnuts, fresh fruit, and tacos. Finally one day I told James I was buying something. I watched as a few people bought fruit from the vendor, and sat down and enjoyed their little cup of happiness. Being Lisa, I walked right over to them and asked them how the fruit was. I asked if they had ever become sick. Low and behold the folks I talked to had been coming to this same place year after year, and year after year they would buy a cup of fresh fruit everyday from the vendor. Not once had they been sick, so I decided I too was not going to be held back by my fear of sickness. I was going to enjoy the most beautiful cup of fresh fruit on the planet. Enrique was the fruit salesman. For $2 I would get to pick a large cup full of the most tasty fruit. Ripe mango, pineapple, watermelon, jicama, cantaloupe, and cucumbers usually filled my cup. I would get it “Mexican style” which included a hearty squeeze of lime juice, and a sprinkle of salt and chili powder. Oh yum!!! I was a street food convert. If you can believe it I converted my family as well. We all indulge in the Mexican street food now.
|Hollie enjoying her lovely cup of fruit, selection, Enrique the fruit man, Jed and a fresh made doughnut, Seth with his roadkill coconut that Jimmy cracked open for him. Not a single tummy ache from the bunch. Actually that’s quite amazing!|
These tacos are along the lines of some you may find from a street vendor. Whether on the streets of Mazatlan, or Washington Blvd. As long as there is some fresh salsa, guac, and cilantro. Maybe even some pickled onions and sliced radish would be awesome. Corn tortillas are a must for me, but I do have a child or two who prefers a flour tortilla. I found this recipe in my Granny’s ward cookbook. Thank you dearest Alana Harkness whoever you are. They’re delish! This was a beautiful Sunday dinner for us yesterday. Light and fresh, and good for us. You can use any kind of shredded meat. They all taste wonderful. So no more pussy footing around street food. I actually think this stuff would be well worth the tummy ache if that happened. Happy Monday!!