Tito's Tacos

My dad (and years later my college roommate) introduced me to Tito's Tacos. It's on the westside, so I don't get there often. I used to plan my flights so I'd get in to LAX when Tito's was open so I could fulfill salsa and burrito requests for Utah-bound Tito's fans.

Our trip to LA last weekend to attend the memorial service for Marianne also afforded us the chance to dine at Tito's.

Mike, who ventures farther across the Tito's menu than I do, ordered a chicken tamale, a cheese enchilada, and a crispy beef taco with cheese. I always get a meat and bean burrito; the only variation occurs in the number of tacos I order.

I don't know when I'll get back to Tito's; hence, there was gluttony. Chips, salsa, guacamole that Mike ordered. A taco covered in shredded cheese with salsa ladled over the top mixing with the juices of the meat inside.

Waiting, waiting impatiently for the burrito to cool enough to handle. Nibbling an opening. Kneading the glorious bean and meat filling out the top and into my ravenous mouth. Suckling, slurping, savoring. They call it Tito's. I call it heaven.

Given our proximity to Mexico, there MUST be something comparable to Tito's in McAllen.