Exterior of El Salteno  As I said in a previous South American dispatch, things get looser, more flavorsome, and less racially homogenous in Argentina the further you penetrate the Northwestern region of the country.  Also, dustier.  I hopped off the bus in the tiny, quaint town of Tilcara, and had

Ay, los tacos. Is there really any more perfect food? Compact, convenient, little envelopes of heaven. And, now, apparently an essential part of a well rounded diet. México, for the taco, the world is forever in your debt. And whereas they are what hamburgers are to Americans across the country

And so I continue my mission to find a pupusa that would justify, at least in my mind, their ubiquity, nay, their very existence.  In Panchita’s No. 2 I’ve found a pupuseria whose product at least gives me hope and prevents me from writing them off as nothing more than bland, pudgy

I’m obsessed with tacos and burritos.  I mean, it’s kind of hard not to be if you like Mexican food and live in San Francisco, where the Mission grants access to so many different options and a taqueria on every corner.  Part of the fun of all these options is