I know many of you have had enough of my taco madness. In fact, you probably had enough of it after the first Tacoville series last summer. Did I listen? No. Callously, I pushed forward in my explorations. Selfishly, I sought asada.
Tacos are a cruel mistress, my friends, and I am their willing slave. Many was the day I'd let my deadline run free, only to find it necessary to eat 12 tacos in a two hour marathon of meat, fat, onion, cilantro, and salsa. Many was the day I would stumble home with bits of tortilla clinging to my shirt, my face masked by confusion and chorizo grease. Many was the day I played supplicant at the taco window.
I'd like to say I did it all for you, Blogtownies. But that would be a lie. I did it because I had to; because it was a need that I couldn't resist. If you suffered collateral damage from my taco lust—boredom, excessive eye rolling leading to outpatient surgery, sympathy farts—I can only shrug. I'm not sorry. I did what I had to do to survive.
But there are a brave few out there who followed along; who watched my journey and felt the call. If you are one of these brave souls, I'd like you to lean close to the computer now and read very carefully.
What you see below is a map representing every taco truck I ever reviewed. Each truck is marked with the illustration that accompanied the series in which it appeared. Each icon carries with it the hours, price, and my own Tacoville review. This is my gift to you, brave tacoholic. This is the map to that mysterious world I've had the pleasure of exploring over the last two summers, greeting the fall with a swollen belly and the "thousand taco stare". I give this map to you, friend, and ask that you explore with care.
Let this be my legacy: With this map, my hot dog map, and my waffle map. No transient eater looking for cheap food should ever find himself or herself without a nearby place to fill their bellies… Morning, noon, or night.
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