Day 160: Casa de Senor Salty

It may be winter in San Francisco, but on the other side of our world our Aussie brethren are enjoying the warm summer months of their backwards year. What better way to forget about the cold and rain outside than with a tasty taco comprised of one of my favorite Austrialian foods: Shrimp on the Barbie! I found these gems in the freezer case at Safeway and couldn't pass them up. 10 minutes in the saute pan, another 3 under the broiler after being assembled into taco form, and I was wisked away to a shrimp_filled bar-b-q along the shores of Bondi Beach

Day 159: Tortilla Heights

After an exheusting 23:42 on the treadmill Tuesday, the E.P. decided it would be an appropriate time to remind me today was Mardi Gras! Not wanting to offend whatever spirits watch over Fat Tuesday by burning anymore calories, the two of us exited out machines forth-with and hit the showers. Wanting to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the numerous Cajun constituents the Daily Taco undoubtedly harbors, we decided excessive amounts of tacos, chips, salsa, and beer would correct any negative imbalance in our fat levels created by the unthinkable exercise we had just erroneously performed. Tortilla Heights seemed like the perfect destination to acquire all 4 of these important components of our proposed meal plan, and, after finding a table in the bar, we were ready to begin the re-fattening process. 4 tacos, 8 Dos Equis, 3 bowls of salsa, and 3 heaping baskets of chips split between the two of us definitely rectified the unthinkable mistake we had made this day traditionally filled with religiously sanctioned debauchery.

Day 158: The Car Wash

Every time I eat at the car wash, two thoughts always cross my mind. First, that cole slaw is a really good sidekick for tacos. Second (and of greater intellectual importance), how is it possible that such great Mexican food can be produced out of a stall in a car wash. This dicotomy of culinary greatness and automotive convenience really defies all attempts at classification under mankinds current understanding of the universe. Inspite of lacking the Einstein-esque reasoning faculties required to even begin serious attempts at comprehending this mystery of the modern world, Senor Salty knows that ignorance is bliss. As whoever the Mexican version of Confucious was wisely stated: one need not understand the physical nature of a taco to fully enjoy the essence of its tastiness.

Day 157: Post Super Bowl at Mi Casa

I will start this post with some words I never thought would be uttered from my lips: congratulations Eli Manning on winning the Super Bowl. Now, I will continue with some words I have spoken many times: Joe Montana is so much better than Tom Brady that it causes me physical pain any time they are mentioned in the same sentence unless it is to say how much better (qualitatively or quantitatively) Joe is! During what was undoubtedly was the greatest non-Niners Super Bowl in history (especially the one where we kicked the crap out of the Stan Humphries, Natron Means, and the rest of the 1994 Chargers!), I had stuffed such a monstrous amount of brownies, chips, guac, and beer down my gullet that I was unsure if I would be able to keep a taco down. around 10PM, my bloated belly had subsided to a level at which I was comfortable that immediate vomiting would not occur if I attempted to choke down my daily requirement. Vegetarian seemed like the healthiest option in light of what I had done to my body during the previous sports-filled hours, so I filled a tortilla with beans, guac, and tasty cowboy caviar (a spectacular concoction my sister had thrown together), and threw caution to the wind. Yum! It never ceases to amaze me how delicious a taco can be even in such dire digestive straights as I found myself in Sunday night.

Day 156: Casa de the Senor

Day 155: Taqueria La Cumbre (Valencia St.)

The Friday night plan was ti hit up Harringtons for a few beers before heading to Little Star in the Mission for some of the best pizza I have come across in my many years of eating. After finishing up down town, I had still not had my daily taco, but was not too concerned since we were on our way to the taco capital of S.F. With Le Count driving and the E.P. and the Chez along for the ride, we made record time rocketing across the city. Having gained a significant amount of time over the other people we were meeting for dinner (they had decided to take Muni!), I figured it would be the perfect time to grab a taco and a beer before I was too stuffed with za for it to fit in my belly. We wandered the block to La Cumbre where we happened to pick up Jess (another member of our dinner entourage) who had been headed to Little Star and just happened to see us entering the taqueria from a block away (this is surprising because normally the 4 of us are a very inconspicuous crew). Four tasty chicken tacos all in a row with 4 delicious Dos Equis was a marvelous treat to tide us over until our table at Little Star was ready and the Ritza was served.

Day 154: The Car Wash