Taco Torture

taco.jpg After growing up in Western Massachusetts, it didn’t take me long to become spoiled living in Los Angeles. Not only do we constantly have fresh produce from around the world, but delicacies from every nation are well-represented.  Mexican food didn’t reach my hometown until I was in college and even then it was either Chi-Chi’s or Taco Bell, neither of which is very authentic or culinary genius. Regardless of quality, the food was something completely new and I was immediately hooked on guacamole, chips, salsa and greasy crispy tacos. Once I landed here – and got a taste of the real thing – there was no stopping my cravings for all things “South of the Border.“ L.A. is the crossroads of the world when it comes to food and I never realized how lucky I was to live here until I went to Europe for a month.

irishbreakfest.jpg As they say, “you don’t know what you got, til it’s gone.” I tried to be adventurous, to eat the local cuisine, but my first stop was in Ireland and while they make good beer, their food is not exactly world-renowned. I initially went with the flow, but after three mornings of the full Irish Breakfast – eggs, sausage, ham, potatoes, tomatoes, bread, a shot of orange juice and a pot of tea – I displeased my hostess by merely requesting the bread and a pot of tea for the rest of my stay. I love breakfast, but it was just too much food. I’m sure she thought I was insane (I was paying for a hot meal), but grumpily relented. Unfortunately, after a few days, all that tea began to keep me up at night. I learned the hard way that the tea they drink is a million times (slight exaggeration) more caffeinated compared to what they ship to us. The sun setting at 10pm didn’t help matters either. 

After two weeks of sleepless nights and innumerable meals of meat and potatoes – served in every form possible, sometimes at the same meal – I was so desperate I tried a random Chinese restaurant in the area. Another cuisine I came to quickly love during my few years in the L.A. sun. While the owners were certainly Asian, the best thing I can say about the meal is that there were no potatoes. It did nothing to satisfy my cravings. Not only was there no decent ethnic food in Ireland, but nary a good salad could be found. Sure they’d put some wilted lettuce and a few sad chunks of tomato on a plate for you, but that’s not exactly the delightful mixture of crunchy, green goodness that my palate was craving.

texassaloon.jpg Once I arrived in London and hooked up with my husband (then boyfriend), he couldn’t believe that of all the restaurants in our neighborhood the one I wanted to try was the Texas Lone Star Saloon. How could he possible understand my yearnings? He had just come from the Land of 1000 Tacos and had never been out of the U.S before. I was two weeks in and dying for food with some flavor other than salt and pepper, as well as a beverage with more than three tiny cubes of ice. I would have to wait another day. Taco Bell makes more authentic food than they served.  Even the drinks were bad. How can anyone screw up a margarita? Lime juice, triple sec, tequila…shake. The fact that it had alcohol in it was its’ only saving grace. This is what comes from desperation.

You’d think my quest would have ended there, but I just couldn’t stop. I decided to try again in Paris. I know, it wasn’t the smartest move, but we were in the culinary capitol of the world. Certainly, there had to be one decent taco, burrito or quesadilla in the whole City of Lights? A local guide pointed to Susan’s Place, another Tex-Mex joint, as having the Best Chili con Carne in the city. My mouth watered in anticipation. I could taste the chili powder and cumin-dusted meat, the creamy guacamole and crisp chips. She was from the Southwest.  It had to be good, right? My husband is no food connoisseur, yet even he knew I was chasing a dream.  It was better than London, but still grossly lacking.  Clearly some things just don’t translate.

taco2.jpg As much as I enjoyed the trip and the food – we did mostly partake of the local cuisine and there’s nothing like a croissant in Paris – it rejuvenated my resolve to live in Los Angeles, traffic, smog and all. Living in a city of 10 million people is far from easy, but the never-ending diversity of food makes it a constant culinary adventure. One of my first stops when back on my home turf: El Tarasco in Venice for their crunchy chicken tacos with shredded lettuce, cheddar cheese and ranchera sauce. It’s not the fanciest place, but they know what I like and for $2 a taco, you can’t go wrong. I still didn’t understand the native language, but my taste buds sure did. I know the scene has changed over there since that trip a decade ago,  however,  I’ve learned my lesson. There’s no place like home.

 

Lisa Dinsmore is an amateur writer, web programmer and wine lover. She has been wine tasting throughout California for the last decade, is currently working her way up to receiving her diploma from the Wine & Spirits Education Trust and has her own wine website, The Daily Wine Dispatch.