Some people have bucket lists with skydiving. Some have Machu Picchu. Some want to learn Italian. We respect all of that.
But if tacos are a meaningful part of your personality, there are certain things you simply need to experience at least once. Not because anyone is keeping score because we’re not.
No table.
No plate.
Maybe one napkin.
Possibly sauce on your wrist.
This is living.
You know the hours.
You know where it parks.
You have defended it in conversation.
At this point, it is basically family.
Tongue. Tripa. Cabeza. Mushroom. Fish. Something you normally scroll right past.
One day, be brave.
Worst case: you learn something.
Best case: new personality.
Breakfast tacos are proof that civilization is still functioning.
Eggs, potatoes, chorizo, bacon, salsa.
Tuesday can start early.
The kind eaten after 11 p.m.
Possibly after saying, “I’m not really hungry.”
You were wrong.
Literal border.
City border.
County line.
Whatever makes it feel dramatic.
If the taco is good enough, the mileage becomes irrelevant.
Yucatán.
Sonora.
Baja.
Mexico City.
Oaxaca.
Tacos are not one cuisine.
That is part of the fun.
Sand will somehow become involved.
Accept this early.
The taco will still be worth it.
Not just any margarita.
The one that makes you stop mid-bite and say:
“Oh. That works.”
That is the moment.
Everyone should know.
Everyone eventually finds out.
There is often sweating.
At least once.
You may immediately develop opinions about thickness, hydration and cast-iron pans.
This happens.
This is rare.
Honor it when it happens.
No notes.
No photos.
Just silence.
The most important number in tacos.
You were done.
Then you weren’t.
Los Angeles.
San Diego.
Austin.
Phoenix.
Mexico City.
Tijuana.
Choose your destination.
Tell people it is a cultural trip.
You are not lying.
There are no chandeliers.
The menu may be on the wall.
You are exactly where you need to be.
Point politely.
Ask questions.
Learn something.
Order two.
You saw what you were doing.
You continued.
Character development.
Hot tortilla.
Freshly cooked meat.
Lime.
Salsa.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing missing.
You planned three toppings.
There are now fourteen.
Someone brought mezcal.
Nobody knows who bought churros.
Perfect.
Crisp fish.
Cabbage.
Crema.
Lime.
Somewhere near the ocean if possible.
Bonus points for eating it in flip-flops.
Important distinction.
Do not blame an entire category because one taco let you down.
Growth.
Not dinner.
A crawl.
Several stops.
Small orders.
Strong pacing.
Possibly a spreadsheet.
No judgment.
Airport-adjacent strip mall.
Tiny town.
Gas station parking lot.
Hotel lobby pop-up.
Great tacos enjoy surprising people.
They text you:
“Where should we go?”
You answer immediately.
Responsibility comes with power.
No rushing.
No sad desk dinner.
No “maybe next week.”
Pick the restaurant.
Invite the people.
Order the tacos.
Get the salsa.
Have the margarita.
Stay for one more round.
Because there are 52 Tuesdays a year.
You might as well make one of them count.
How Many Have You Done?
No official scoring system exists.
Which means we can make one up.
0–5: Taco Curious
6–10: Taco Committed
11–15: Taco Serious
16–20: Taco Lifestyle
21–24: Taco Legend
25: We assume your calendar just says “Tuesday.”
That is a bucket list we can support.
