THIS IS … well, I don’t know his name in spite of having known him more than a decade.
Twelve or so years ago he walked our streets with a cardboard jar requesting donations for a drug-rehab center. I don’t know if he was a patient or just a helper. I suspect the former.
But that didn’t last very long — a couple of years — and then he started selling churros, a sugar-coated pastry. He’s been doing that on downtown streets ever since.
You can hear him coming a block away as he yells churros, churros, churros. Sometimes I buy one to go with my café Americano negro. That’s what I did yesterday.
He totes the basket and loops that collapsible stand over his forearm. And he’s always very upbeat.
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(Note: For a superior version of this shot and other fabulous photos, take a look here.)
On my first trip SOB I was relaxing in the RV park at Kino when all the residents got excited and running for their pesos. Turns out they recognized the distinctive sound of the churro truck. Over a potholed dirt road here came a pickup truck with a propane-fired boiling vat of oil in the bed sloshing around while three gents held on. When the truck stopped they started cranking out delicious churros.
No OSHA and pesky safety rules there.
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Yep, Steve. Down here you gets your pleasures, and you takes your chances. Like the Goddess intended.
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If one asks for a cup of Black American Strength Coffee in PV, is this the way to do it? Cafe Americano Negro. Or would they think you’re crazy?
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Beverly: They would think you’re crazy … or something like that. It’s just a phrase I use here. You’d just ask for café americano. It will arrive black.
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I can imagine he’s happy and upbeat probably because he’s carrying a basketful of churros. My fave postre.
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Carole: They are good, but they’re not my favorite dessert. That would be crème Brûlée.
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How many hoops would a guy like this leap through NOB. Or, is it even possible? Señor Felipe always recognizes the most valuable parts of living.
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Ricardo: As the Regulatory State (totally beyond voter control) grows above the Rio Bravo, God knows how many permits, taxes, etc., this fellow would face to sell goodies on the sidewalk. Depends on the location, of course, but still …
One of the things Trump has been doing by executive order, though little is reported by the media, is cancel lots of the regulations. Good for him.
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And you haven’t asked him what his name is, because????
He looks intense.
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Angeline: I don’t need to know his name to buy churros. But I get your point. Many, perhaps most, would have asked by now. Bottom line for me, however, is that I don’t really care what his name is. I have no intention of socializing with him. But I do like him and, yes, he does appear a little intense in person too.
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Churros are one of the great food groups, particularly when freshly made and still hot. No chocolate or any of that stuff. Just a dusting of sugar and some coffee.
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Señor Lanier: We are of one mind, especially on the matter of anything more than sugar, and even more especially when they squirt something up inside it, a travesty.
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Food trucks are all the rage here now. God only knows how many hoops they have to jump through to start serving food.
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Señor Bowman: Food trucks are catching on down here too. Well, I guess we’ve long had what might qualify as food trucks — food on wheels, often out of the trunk of a car — but I’m seeing more of the fancy sorts like they have above the Rio Bravo.
I wonder what kind of permit is required, if any at all. I imagine it depends on the location. In any event, it’s almost certainly far easier than up there in Gringolandia, the land of the Regulatory State.
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