I honestly have never worked up the courage to eat there. Ever. Until yesterday. Late lunch time about 2:30 I surveyed the site, no one else there. I parked and tiptoed up, a friendly gal greeted me with a stare and suddenly I wish I knew how to speak spanish for all the sun faded signs all told me I should have paid more attention in High School spanish class. I didn't.
The menu seemed to emphasize tacos and some variations of tacos, and hey the bus signs says TACOS DOS HERMANOS so, I get it, I order tacos. Some beef and some chicken. A man working inside the wagon is constantly banging on the grill inside with his metal flippers. He is chopping up the meat as it cooks on the griddle. Constantly chopping. The flies are everywhere, inside and out. A mecca of flies surrounding this wagon. Why is there that chopping sound? Could the guy inside be chopping up any fly that lands on the cooking meat to incorporate the secret flavor? Oh my, maybe I should have walked away before I was actually served. Those flies, lots and lots of flies. That chopping, lots and lots of chopping.
My food finally comes out, uh, will I have the nerve to eat it? Did they serve me chopped fly tacos........oh the pressure.
There is a happy ending to this story. I never saw any flies in my tacos, at least while my eyes were closed.
I am also happy to report no midnight barfing or any intestinal issues. I guess they were good.
I'll stick with Number 1 China Buffet next time.
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