Taco Tuesday

Christopher Rubio-Goldsmith

Taco Tuesday is just alliteration assimilation.

Why not introduce a sandia Sunday

or the phonetic white boy huevos Jueves.

My brother feels this way, a wrap is when

a gabacho refuses to say burro. (How many

realities are permitted?)

No abuela or tia ever rose before the roosters

to make wraps. El sabor may not have borders

but it does respect words:

a churro is a churro, the cocido is that,

and jamoncillo does not exist

in another idiom. I still don’t like flan.

The salsa is always served in its own bowl.

Red or green it comes alone. The salsa

is never called, “the spicy ketchup,”

or “the hot avocado stuff” or worse

“the tomato and pepper dish you

dip corn chips in.” Basta.

My Abuelo always added sugar to the salsa he made

and took to the railyard in Douglas where he worked.

Its pica is the history circling making sure everyone

stays seated at the table.

And frijoles are beans but with lard. And sometimes

with tortillas, eso es an entire meal. Notice no

one has started the entire frijole Friday event.

Because preparing los frijoles requires a type

of curandera magical power.

One may uncover a recipe but if the beans have not been

cleansed and then sorted one by one banishing the teeth

cracking small stones and the imperfect beans

then the frijoles will lack their potential. 

The struggle requires a special food that fills the muscles

with faith and endurance and satisfies one’s pansa

so there is space left for faith but not grief.