Don't shop for groceries when you're hungry. How often I've heard this little piece of advice.
Sometimes shopping and hunger happens at the same time in spite of good intentions.
One day I dashed into Aldi for supplies -- hungry as a bear. Near the door boxes of hard shell
tacos were stacked. The picture on the box showed grated cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, browned hamburger, tacos and the words *Taco Bell*. Everything I needed to start some memories rolling.
The first time I ever tasted tacos was January 1974. Our family traveled from British Columbia, Canada south through Washington to Portland, Oregon to visit friends. I remember the novelty of the middle of winter and no snow! Weather that was damp and chilly with clouds and rain . . .
This weather was unheard of for Minnesota girls from a small town west of International Falls, MN, the coldest spot in the lower forty-eight. It didn't seem like January to us -- no winter coats or boots, scarves or mittens. We traipsed about with light spring jackets over our shoulders and high top tennis shoes on our feet.
Our friends took us to sea world and a wax museum and to the coast where water stretched toward the edge of the sky. There were lots of rocky cliffs and waves splashed into the rocks spraying salt water all over the place.
One of the delicious meals we were served was tacos. I can still remember watching the process of spooning the meat into the taco then loading it with lettuce and cheese. Maybe there were tomatoes and onions to sprinkle on top. I don't remember for sure. And then trying to eat all of that crunchy goodness without everything falling to pieces . . .
Like they say in How to Talk Minnesotan, by Howard Mohr
"This taco is really good but it's dripping down my arm!"
That evening while I browned hamburger and grated cheese I told Krysta stories of my first visit to Oregon and my first taste of tacos.
*Add salsa to the mix and make tacos even more scrumptious and messy.