On the way, I saw:
One latino man kneeling quite seriously and respectfully behind John Travolta's star on Hollywood Boulevard while the guy with him took a photo.
One middle-aged man sweeping the sidewalk and singing along with the Iranian music blasting out of the store.
One poodle dressed in an outfit that made it appear to have human arms.
Many, many sex shops.
But, it was the produce that inspired me to pull out my camera.
After the market and an herb salad lunch, Orin and I set off on a hike.
A 9 mile hike. Ouch. But look how beautiful.
We got back after dark and decided to go taco-stand hopping. The first stand had a long and slow-moving line. Good sign. People were ordering for the whole family. 14 tacos, 20 tacos . The boy making the tacos chopped meat with one hand while putting tongue and tripe and what not in the steamer with the other, working so hard and so fast that I was captivated for the whole wait. Our tacos al pastor even got a bit of the roasted pineapple chopped up on top.
Next stop was for meat grilled over coals tacos. Unfortunately, when we were about three families from the front, the whole operation suddenly packed up and walked off, including everyone in line. Orin and I were left standing on the sidewalk alone, bewildered.
Third stop. the sweetest little old lady grilled our meat and made sure to ask us four times if it was one carne asada and one chorizo on the same plate and the other carne asada separate or if she should put two carne asadas on one plate and the chorizo on a separate one. When she saw us squatting by the wall to eat, she brought over milk crates for us to sit on.
We finished up with some beer and tequila at Orin's place.
It was all a lot better yesterday than it feels today.
1 commentaire:
Sounds divine.
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