"[C]ritics Casey Deeha, Chipp Oatlay, Sal Savirdy and 'El Presidente Mole' promise to provide 'not merely a description of burritos, but a more writerly experience that gives the attention to burritos that they deserve.' Yep. You heard it here, folks. - Jay Barmann, SF Grubfest

"[Casey Deeha] also thinks it could be a matter of cultural heritage and sense of place why a Mission-style burrito is thought to taste the best in San Francisco." - Tamara Palmer, Zagat

"Bay Area Review of Burritos -a must read for anyone remotely interested in foil-wrapped tube food" - Kevin Montgomery, Up Town Almanac

Friday, March 29, 2013

Cinco De Mayo, Locust St, Walnut Creek


'Quelle est cette?!' The French soldier shouted as he came upon Mexican shores. 

Thousands of Mexicans stood ready awaiting... awaiting... among Pottery Barns, H&Ms, and Apple stores. Thousands of Metaixcans, invisible awaiting entendre... entendre for baguettes and brie. 

No mi compadres! Vamos! Vamos!

So it goes (a Vonnegut allusion for an ironic literary nod) - and it is Cinco de Mayo - a revolution against tyranny - a statement of identity - a future anticipation of raucous and ridiculous nights amongst Hummer driving frat bros in Old Town, San Diego. 

Is this what we are fighting for? Like Taqueria Viva Mexico, I hope for a revolution. A burrito awaits-my gunnito-my trusty donkey to ward off Escargot. Charge with a veggie taco de harina, harina, harina! I pummel  you with black beans! I pummel you with grated assorted 'jack' and 'yellow cheddar' cheese! I pummel you French bastards with a dislocated dollop of sour cream! I pummel you French silly wackos with all-too-cold guacamole! I pummel you with muted salsa! I pummel with too much lettuce?

A baguette flies past my ear... camembert ruptures my spleen. Chips (the French fry kind) fly into my esophagus (not from San Diego - damn their 'California Burrito'). 

I am slain... I am slain muchacho. Vaya con Dios mi amigo. And let flights of tostadas cruble too easily to thy rest (a Shakespeare allusion - 2nd ironic literary nod). 

I hate Walnut Creek. I love Walnut Creek. (an Orwellian ironic allusion). Self reflexive nonsense; there I go again speaking to you about me speaking to you about speaking about an allusion-ridden metaphorical take on eating a burrito. Entropy. The French win in this version - no more Cinco De Mayo - metaphorically and literally. Vive la France!

Salsa Rating - blandly mild.

Written by? Casey Deeha

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