It’s been awhile since I’ve had decent Mexican food.
Apart from family and friends, Mexican food is one of the things I miss most about California. I could go into a multitude of restaurants and taquerias in most towns in Northern California and procure a decent burrito. Hell, even the goddamned taco trucks made high quality stuff.
Alas, in central Minnesota the consistently best bet for Mexican cuisine is Chipotle, which is fine, but at the same time isn’t. I’m getting a burrito, but it’s just not the same. They try, but fall short.
So whenever we get out to California–and I travel out there more frequently on my lonesome, because flying a family of four is ridiculously expensive–burritos are a necessity.
In my quests for burritos, something often overlooked is the chimichanga and I’m sure it’s because I really have to be in the right place–I’m talking headspace now, not geographic location–to commit to the ‘changa.
When you think about it, the chimichanga is really just an improved upon burrito. One day someone must have been contemplating the grandeur of a burrito pondering as to how perfection can get better and decided to deep fry the sucker–this makes me suspect an American because we deep fry the shit out of anything and everything. And while the chimichanga is tastier than a burrito, it also is a significantly larger gut bomb, and rarely do I want to contend with gut bombs. It’s just not worth it, usually.
I could just leave this as is. Just an ode to burritos and Mexican fare and a lamentation over the utter lack of them in central Minnesota. That’d be fine, right? Nothing wrong with writing about burritos.
But there’s more.
I also wanted to take this time to talk about Eric Powell’s graphic novel Chimichanga.
I’ve just started getting into Powell’s work. I really had my heart set on reading his much lauded Goon series. I checked with my library and while they didn’t carry any Goon graphic novels, they did have this book called Chimichanga and it’s really good. The story’s set in a traveling circus and a little bearded, chubby girl gets an egg which hatches into a monster, who she dubs “Chimichanga,” whose feats of strength draw a crowd, effectively saving the circus from financial ruin–at first. I’m not spoiling too much here. There’s much more to the story, like a farting witch and an evil pharmaceutical company. In addition to Powell’s rock solid art and story, you also get a little message thrown your way. Be true to who you are. Be loyal to your friends and family. Big corporations are dicks. All that good stuff.
So why not go out, buy a burrito and check out Eric Powell’s Chimichanga, because you’ll regret neither.