Queso, enchiladas, salsa and don’t even get me started on Chuy’s creamy jalapeño. These dishes compromised my life plan to graduate college, (attempt) to become adventurous, and travel the world. How can I do that knowing everything I will be leaving behind? In my opinion, Mexican food (most importantly Tex-Mex) was placed on this planet to corrupt Texans’ lives.
Growing up in the south, Mexican food was included as one of the primary food groups right alongside fruits and vegetables. Every weekend I would expect to have a belly full of queso from Chuy’s, Torchy’s, or some hole in the wall in Austin, Texas. Little did I know, as I was eating away at chuychangas, trailer park tacos (extra trashy of course), and queso compuesto, simultaneously the food was eating away at me as well. There is something to be said about the iconic views of Lake Austin from the bamboo balcony of Hula Hut and the oddly satisfying appeal of getting a taco from a trailer that mysteriously makes it taste so much better. Piece by piece the city not only stole my heart, but my stomach fell head over heels for the Tex-Mex cuisine. And that is when my life was destroyed.
I started to notice a slight problem when it came time to choose a college. I began surveying the area surrounding the campuses of my interest to make sure there was at least a decent dive within driving distance. I could go on and on about why Texas Tech is my perfect fit because of my major, sorority, friends, etc., but it also definitely did not hurt that Lubbock, Texas, had both a Chuy's and a Torchy's. Anytime I was missing home, I became comforted by the sights and smells I had grown up around.
I have always had big dreams to follow my career path straight into the heart of California and never look back. No obstacles were going to stand in the way, not family, money or boys. Food, however, was never really considered in this list. I mean no one stays close to home because of the food, right? There is always some sentimental reason like family or friends or whatever, but food? That's just crazy. OK, well that's what I thought, too until I tried what these West Coasters attempt to mask as "queso." Fact, it's not even queso, it's melted cheese with some meat thrown in. While in San Diego, California, I was on the search for a local Mexican restaurant because much like SpongeBob and Patrick, one cannot go without the other for long. While scanning the menu I came across an item marked "cheese sauce." What kind of nonsense is this? It's pronounced queso not cheese sauce. This illusive "cheese sauce" was ordered and brought out with bread. Bread? No pal, queso is eaten with chips not bread. I mean how can I spend my life in a state where they cannot even do a simple dip correctly?
Ultimately, either the West Coast needs to bring some more Tex-Mex into its life, or I will have to figure out a way to get Chuy's delivered via flight. I fully believe my parents brainwashed me with Tex-Mex food in hopes that I would never leave Texas; and might I say, they did one heck of a job. One day something's got to give and I will have to choose whether I can withstand losing a key ingredient from my childhood. However, until that day I will continue to stuff my face with chuychangas, tacos and loads of guacamole until my heart's content.
