So I woke up at 6 this morning, went to Starbucks and read the paper and waited for my friend to wake up, then we walked over to the Maxwell St. market and ate Mexican Food for two hours. I had:
1 Taco de chivo de birria at the homemade tortilla place north of roosevelt -- this was great
1 Taco al pastor at tito's -- so so only, I've had much better pastor
1 cup of birria consome at tito's -- I loved this, and it seemed to be overwhelmingly the biggest seller
1 Oaxacan "spicy" pork tamale -- okay.
1 Taco de carne asada at the place under the viaduct -- this was great, big hunks of steak, tender and well flavored, if anything was lacking, the salsa wasn't so hot (as in not that good).
on the way back:
1 Taco de ojo at tito's -- didn't like this too much, hard to look at for one thing, and the taste wasn't sooooo good enough to help me forget the texture
1 Taco de cachete (pork cheek, with a lot of cartilege and sinew and socket and shit) at tito's -- tasted a lot like the goat actually (maybe it was goat cheek)
1 Taco de carne asada at the homemade tortilla place north of roosevelt -- I got this because I saw them pull the steak right off the griddle as I was getting there -- it was actually very good if not as good as the one at the southern end (although the charred jalepeno and green onion that came with it was awesome and almost tipped the scales)
1 more taco de chivo de birria
and I had 2 cokes and one horchata, and barely got away without buying two hand held crossbow guns for my cousin Lian (12) and baby-sit kid Ted (10) for Chirstmas. Responsibillity got the best of me. I was also tempted by a throwback 1985 White Sox jersey, and various power tools and a set of brass knuckles, but ended up walking away only with a slight stomach ache. And a smile.
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