Tequilas Burrito

Last night I went to a local Mexican restaurant here in the booming metropolis of Albany, Oregon. It was actually quite a tasty endeavor. I consider myself a bit of a Mexican food snob since I lived in Santa Barbara, California for 6 years and became quite accustomed to the best Mexican food outside of Mexico. And don't be fooled, it's not found in "nice" restaurants. The best Mexican food is found in the hole-in-the-wall establishment on Milpas Street--it's called El Sitio and if you are ever there you must order the torta chorizo--quite possibly the best food ever created. But I digress.

So last night I went to this place called Tequilas with my mom, brother-in-law, sister, and 18-month-old niece who is not quite ready for Mexican food appreciation I don't think.

The big news is that this is the first time in probably 6 months that I have really enjoyed a Mexican meal. I had tried about a month before at a small establishment in Shelton, Washington with one of my best friends. It was literally one of the most painful experiences of my life trying to force down this puny carne asada taco. It wasn't because the food was bad but because my tongue was hurting so much. It wasn't much later that I had the tumor on my tongue removed and that is why last night was so special--it was my first post-op Mexican food experience. And let me tell you, after being unable to enjoy your favorite foods for as long as I had and then having a simple pleasure like the Tequilas Burrito placed in front of you--let me just say it doesn't get much better!

For the next few weeks/months (until my radiation therapy starts to really kick my butt), I'm on a mission to enjoy all my favorite foods as much as I can. Because after radiation, there is no guarantee that I'll be able to taste anymore. I don't know what to compare it to--maybe going deaf after hearing Beethoven or going blind after seeing the sun set over the Pacific. In any case, it scares me to think that I may not be able to taste food in about 2 months. So last night I was devastated when they told me that they were out of deep-fried ice cream--of course, if my doctors are reading this, they are probably stoked!

I guess what I'm trying to say is that if there is a way for you to do something and have it feel like it is the last time you'll ever do it--it just adds something. Something that is impossible to describe.