Day: January 2, 2015

156,000 Calories + Fresh Tortillas = A New Kind of Happy

Pancho Villa Market is where you can head in San Diego for freshly made tortillas. We are out of torts, so, here I am. Instead of a usual post-grocery shopping snack of little,street-style carne asada soft tacos, today I’m looking for something different.

The fabulous woman behind the counter and I combined our Spanish and English and came up with these snacks: birria de res, and buche de puerco, a chile relleno, some carnitas, and a burrito with adobada de pollo. (Need to brush up on your high school Spanish? Here’s a great site for a cheat sheet- “A Gringo’s Guide to Mexican Food,” or, “Everything You Need to Know to Read a Taqueria Menu.” at http://doginspace.com/taqueriaspanish/).

Carnitas and rellenos I know, but the adobada, birria and buche were all new to me. And I will eat anything if it is something other people will regularly eat- no squeamishness in me. Bring on the tripas, medudo is one of my favorites.

WHERE HAVE THESE BEEN ALL MY LIFE?!? The birria and buche became little, soft tacos as fast as possible by toasting up the tiny corn tortillas and adding a little jack cheese and lettuce.

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Buche de Puerco on the left, birria de res on the right (ignore what the lids may say, we were too hungry to care about the details).
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Buche and birria soft tacos. YUM!
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Front- burrito with pollo de adobada, Back- husband swiping carnitas

The oldest New Year’s story of all

Perspective, faith in humanity, forgiveness, overcoming setbacks… if you need a shot of any of these, here it is:

Cycling in the South Bay

When I saw my friend lying on the pavement, unmoving, and a massive smash in the side of the SUV that had just hit him, I went into a kind of shock. It wasn’t the shock of inaction, it was the shock of unconscious action. We got the distraught driver out of the roadway, hovered over Michael until the EMS arrived, and directed traffic so that one disaster didn’t become two.

As it happened, the terrible physical injuries that my friend sustained were only part of the problem. As he lay on the pavement wondering whether he would live or die, the recurrent thought that ripped to the surface of his consciousness was, oddly, this: “I’ve got to quit my job.”

The accident happened five years ago. We had been in the saddle all day, and on the final climb up Old Topanga from Seven-Minute, Michael had ridden away from the…

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