Burrito shout-out

Mary is slowly but surely eating her way across the burrito places on Clark St, here in Chicago. She’s got a blog to document her (and her burrito cohort, Cortney)progress…I went on the inaugural burrito-eating adventure, but haven’t gotten to go out since with them. Despite this, I still made a brief cameo appearance, which I will present here for you, my dear reader(s).

From this post:Burrito? As in a little Burro? Like the animal? A little burro eating carrots?

So, late last night, in a flurry of sleeplessness (because Cortney and I aren’t people who sleep very much — we’d like to, but it just isn’t hardwired into our systems, this sleep thing), I made quesadillas. Fried corn tortillas with a slice of queso fresco warm in the center. Yay quesadillas! These are not burritos, but they are also delicious.

I recently made my roommate aware of how awesome queso fresco is. She ate all of mine and bought more, so I ate some of hers last night. I told her this, “Moving to Evanston is a world of changes for you. Ne job, new apartment, new boyfriend, new favorite cheese.” For me, moving to Evanston has been a lot more of the same but in a different setting. I’m just tired, but I just don’t sleep, and instead I find myself at 3am, when I’ve been awake for 21 hours, washing my quesadilla pan out, wondering if I will ever figure all of this out. Wondering if I’ll ever understand the situation of burritos and how they fit into the greater scheme of things, wondering, wondering, is this it? Is it just me staying up forever and making lovely things and having crises and enjoying the occasional moment of wonder in queso fresco?

So yes, go read Burritos on Clark and taste the adventure.


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