Ending The Night On A Win

It was a Friday night, and I had been hauling hay with my Dad in 100 degree weather. Thirsty work and I couldn’t scare up a pal in El Paso for a beer. Driving around, I didn’t see any bars that didn’t look too crowded, or too loud. (I don’t like bars with more than one TV or a TV that is on too loud) Cutting my losses, and feeling kinda hungry, I headed back to the farm. On a whim, I decided to drive through Fabens, the town closest to home. The McDonalds there is perpetually swamped, and not anything I would eat. Everything else was closed, but I did see a taco truck in the vacant lot next to the old bank.

Have you ever eaten a meal you wished would never end? The tacos al pastor weren’t full of chunks of pineapple and onion like they usually are, but still delicious. The green onion was roasted to order, and the ends wrapped in foil before they were put on the fire. The result was less like an onion, and more like a tube full of sweetish, tangy syrup. The baked potato was baked to perfection, and topped with just a smidge of butter. There was a lime, to squeeze on the meat, and a few slices of radish to clean the pallet. (A taco isn’t a taco without a squeeze of lime, friends) The two salsas were a thin, red, hot sauce and a chunky, smoky, grilled jalapeno salsa.  Both were good, but I preferred the jalapeno salsa. It made a better contrast to the latent sweetness of the pork. I sat, finishing my beer, thinking that I had previously marked the night down as a dud. Any night that ends with some delicious tacos is a win, in my books.