It feels grand to write this blog again. While I’ve been on a brief hiatus, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a bunch of regular readers of this blog around the country. You’re all pretty amazing people. Strange, definitely, but amazing. So, every month I’m running a poll on Twitter (@patricklenton) and on the Facebook fan page, where you guys get to recommend things you want reviewed. This month, I seem to have been bombarded by calls to review tacos. I can only assume a bunch of people were hungry.
In the ’50s, the national obsessions were barbershop quartets and the oppression of women. The world was resigned to peppy harmonies about pot roast until the earth finally spun off its axis into the sun’s gaping maw – all until something astounding happened in the 1960s. What was this event that revitalised the world like a defibrillator to a sleeping child’s face? It was the pop band known as The Beatles, who started off performing on stage and ended up living in our hearts, right next to our emotion holes. Why were these dirty hippies so amazing? Books in their dozens have been written on the subject, but it can all be summarised to this point: they are the taco’s of music. They are the perfect mixture of ingredients, all in one digestible package. Also, they are from England, which is the Mexico of Europe.
|Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Sandwich.|
But you want to know about tacos, right? Well, tacos are the Beatles of food! Everything is correctly proportioned for maximum enjoyment. Just like that Yellow Submarine song – never gets boring. Every so often you’ll go to some sort of fancy restaurant where they try to mix up the traditional recipe and add something avant-garde and edgy, like a pumpkin or saffron. And it totally gets ruined! We call that the Yoko factor. And then sometimes, you’ll be enjoying your perfect taco in a parking lot and someone will come along and shoot the tomato.
LACK OF STARS:
Personally I’m a Rolling Stones fan, myself. Mmmm, burritos.