I've been raving for some time about the wonderful taco vans that can be found throughout Chicago. I can also be found lamenting my want for quality taco vans in the Inland Northwest (or for that matter, REAL FOOD in the NW--sorry Seattle folk, that means you too). There was an excellent van in Moscow, Idaho, which is about eight miles from Pullman, WA for those not in the know, but it vanished one fine day when husband and I went searching for comfort food. Said taco van later resurfaced of course, but in its own restaurant venue, where it was subsequently stripped of its tastiness and transformed into the sad Northwest restaurant menu/atmosphere/wasteland that consumes one too many good ideas here.
Imagine my surprise and delight when I drove home from work in Lewiston, Idaho one day to discover what resembled a taco van on the side of the road, and a few people lingering around with disguised food in aluminum foil.
I turned around.
What I saw was so heartwarming that I almost cried--a sign with the usual taco van carnivorous culprits, INCLUDING TONGUE. Most of the time I am happy to even see a taco van around here let alone one with seasoned pork and/or lengua. I snatched hubby for some grub soon after, and an obsession was born. No more eating at the dive "Mexican" joints in Pullman; no more cheddar cheese on tacos or lust for chorizo. It isn't the greatest food I've ever had, and it isn't the most authentic, but I have to admit, it doesn't have the Pullman "Eat this and be branded by our tasteless ambivalence" sticker on it either.
The taco van has arrived. I can now die happy. And full. Sorry for the shaky pictures--it must've been the hunger or the excited anticipation.