Nothing Heals a Broken Heart Like a Technicolor Taco Cart

Source: Roads & Kingdoms

Chicharrón tacos in the Yucatán

I wandered through the pre-dawn streets, looking for a place that was open. It was 6 a.m. We had just said goodbye.

January in the Yucatán had been unusually frigid, flurried with rain. I had only packed beach dresses of gauzy linen, and walked hunched with cold.

In the blue light I came to a technicolor taco cart, its propane burners lit. Behind it a tiny lady emerged. She looked about 80. She deftly navigated between a myriad of metal pots, stirring various toppings—black beans, crumbled boiled eggs, cotija.

I ordered a chicharrón taco. ...

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