I really miss crispy

A letter to the past.

Hi 003,

I hope this email catches you in a healthy, happy frame of mind.

I did some cooking a few weeks ago, and took a picture. I bumped into it today, looking for something else. It made me think of you. (Knowing you, I’m expecting a wry, tongue-in-cheek, mild bit of chastisement, “so, I remind you of a plate of tacos. Thanks a lot.”)

Nope; the connection is Austin, early 1960’s. Having you come to mind is, by itself, enough to prompt me to write, and give you an update: 83 on the horizon and still doing okay, which has come to mean, ‘still bouncing back’. Sondra keeps fast walking, and remains active and trim. I’m busy writing. It’s a new career and I really enjoy it. Substack tells me you are a loyal reader. I thank you, but don’t feel obligated. I write because I really love doing it. It keeps alive the passion for life.

Actually, when I try my hand at cooking, I’m usually trying to reproduce something I loved when much younger. In this case, I was thinking of the ‘big 4’ in downtown Austin — Mexican restaurants in a chain. One may have been named “El Toro” but I’m probably just hallucinating a memory. They used to serve something called the ‘Crispy Taco’ and the tortilla was fried in a way that left large and small ‘bubbles’ of crispiness. Eating one was an auditory and gustatory sensation. I loved them! Every taco here in New York is rolled in soft tortillas. Crispy tacos are nowhere to be found; no El Toro here. [Sob]. I miss crispy!

I tried to remember if we went there together one evening, for dinner. I think we did; a least once; perhaps with another couple who had a car. I can’t be sure, but nonetheless, I associate you with Austin, and Austin with the wonderful crispy tacos of yore.

The picture I am sending was not exactly the crispy tacos from early 60’s Austin, but take my word they were plenty delicious — and kosher to boot! They tasted and sounded great. It was late when I, after cleaning up, finished eating them. In fact, it was ‘too late’, and I had ‘too much’, when I finally got off to sleep.

The next morning I paid the price. Ah, alas, we both know you can’t go home again.

Anyways, have a wonderful summer. Stay in touch.

Arnie