Burrrrr----ito

I was walking up Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side on a frigid afternoon and I saw this sign in the window of a a Mexican restaurant. I had never seen it before and I walk up this part of Columbus all the time. I never notice Mexican restaurants much here as I think they are not "that good." But here was almost a "shout out" to my beloved San Francisco burrito. It thrilled me to see the homage in writing in Manhattan.

I lived in Los Angeles for 12 plus years and had wonderful Mexican food, but I always favored the burritos from the Mission District in San Francisco. They seem to win in all categories of texture, heft, blend of flavors, heat, etc. I just have always loved them.

This sign made me almost gastronomically homesick. I am going home at Christmas and I am now powered to go and eat burritos.

It is funny how the thought of some foods can be "transportative." From the corner of Columbus and 71st I can float to Mission Street and Valencia Street as in an out of body experience and be at La Taqueria, El Farolito and La Cumbre. I can feel the stinging crunch of the chile peppers and the soft, chewiness of the hot, blanket-like tortilla. The meat and the guacamole and rice and beans just blend so perfectly, yet hold their own.

Buritto eating in San Franciso is probably one of the best things in life when I think of it. And people are rabid in their loyalty which I love. Just like Phildelphians and their cheesesteaks. Regional food passion is LIFE in my book. It is one of the things that reminds people why they are alive. I know that sounds overstretching, but I hasten to think it is true.

To be truly alive one has to have passions about food, music, art, people, places.

Just try to prove me wrong.