Sometimes I just wake up thinking about tacos
From D.W.: Today, Saturday as I write this, is Rachel’s birthday. She would have been 48 today. She died a month before her 46th birthday in 2024, so this marks the third time that I’ve had to do this without her. I’ve never been much of a birthday guy. I’d just as soon let the day pass without it being mentioned, but Rachel loved birthdays. LOVED them. She remembered them all and was good about reaching out to people and knowing exactly what to say and exactly what level of enthusiasm to bring. She could even make a grouch like me feel special.*
She didn’t admit it too often, but she loved her own birthday most of all. And so did I. And that makes these anniversaries as tough, or tougher than all of the other anniversaries that pass relentlessly without her. We didn’t have many formal traditions, but we always tried to make or do something special. And now it’s weird, obviously. And sad. And lonely. And sad. And I’m not particularly interested in it being not weird, or lonely, or sad. It should be thus.
But this is not a post about being sad. This is a post about Tex-Mex food.
We moved back to Houston from Kentucky in the summer of 2023. If you’re doing the math, that means she had one last birthday in Texas before she died. We went to her favorite Tex-Mex place in town: El Patio. El Patio is the second oldest Tex-Mex joint in Houston and even though it’s nowhere close to where we lived, it was the place she most often took out-of-town visitors.
Rachel loved Tex-Mex food. LOVED. IT. Tex-Mex, Mexican, Gringo-Mex, fast food Mexican, all of it. I suspect that the primary reason she was excited about moving back to Texas, proximity to family included, was the friction-free access to good tacos. The Mexican joints in Cincinnati weren’t terrible. There were some ok places. But mostly… yeah, they were terrible. There were three places in our county in Kentucky. The closest was 10 miles away. It was also the worst. As in, they brought the chips out with salsa and ranch dressing. RANCH DRESSING! The others weren’t much better, but we still went as often as we could. So, coming home and having near unlimited access to amazing Mexican/Tex-Mex food was just about the greatest thing Rachel could imagine at the time.
I went back to El Patio on the first birthday after she died two years ago. And then I went again on her birthday last year. And tonight, though a few tears may fall into my refried beans, I’m looking forward to sharing my dinner with the memory of the best person ever, ever.
*If you want to read some of the fantastic birthday messages she sent to other people, check out THIS POST from last year.
Facebook. June 12th. 2022
Sometimes, I just wake up thinking about tacos. And by sometimes, I mean like twice a week.
Facebook. July 14th. 2023
All (well, except for what goes in our vehicles, and the love seat we still need to sit on) packed and ready to go in the morning! We have loved being on the farm in Kentucky, making so many new friends, and living our lives in this place. We are so grateful and our hearts are so full. And now, back to beloved Houston to make good trouble, eat all the tacos, be so sweaty most of the time, have new adventure, and love our people. We are the luckiest, D.W. Jones.
Long Valley Lane. July 8th. 2008
good friday 2001. ryan came to dc to see me, and we proceeded to work our way through the zoo, right over to adams morgan, and the loriol plaza, which claims to serve mexican food. the mexican food was somewhat lacking, but the margaritas were excellent. at least i think they were. things started to get hazy after the second pitcher. we almost got kicked off the subway. we sobered up on my back porch by singing church and camp songs and smoking turkish cigarettes for four hours. and then we listened to this cd and the rain for hours. HOURS. and then next day,we took our hungover selves to mass, and i received my very first plenary indulgence. YEAH!
Facebook. May 12th. 2023
We had a wild Friday night out, y’all. We checked out a local Tex-Mex restaurant and watched a very rotund three year old run about a thousand miles around his family’s table. He wasn’t squealing or being a toot, homeboy was ALL ABOUT THE RUNNING. Single minded and relentless and NO NO SHOES NO I FINE. It was adorable. And then he gave the waitress a hug when it was time to go. I bet you cash money he was asleep before they ever got out of the parking lot. Talk about wholesome content.
Long Valley Lane. June 14th. 2005
at around 1pm, we decided it was time to head east and face the music of the real world. we made it home to austin by 7pm, had incredible mexican food and margaritas and talked about how much fun we had had, and how we needed to do this every year. it was a great trip. i can imagine that the davis mountains haven't seen the last of rachel, derkirita, or kk.
Facebook. January 29th. 2019
It’s even colder than it was nine years ago when I told you it was beyond cold and the six cats in my house are slowly eating away at my alleged sanity. I made sure to put out extra food for them this morning. And yet, today I arrived home to find Jinx and Carrie Fisher casually eating tortillas, having cast aside portions of the bag in which said tortillas were residing.
They never do this with any other bread product, except the zero-nutritional garbage bread I occasionally buy for nostalgic pbj’s. It’s like they know those are my two favorite bread items. And they ate them on purpose.
The high tomorrow is 7.
That is six more fingers than I need to tell you exactly how I feel about the weather and my lack of tortillas.
Long Valley Lane. June 18th. 2012
i remember the first time i left the central time zone. we were on a family trip, to new mexico. i was six, and my brother was two. ...white sundress with tie straps and red piping and smocked down the front, and little white sandals, and sitting as still as i possibly could while the man with the box full of colors drew a picture of me for my momma to hang on the wall... eating the hottest enchilada of my entire life, and my poppy smiling the whole time, while my eyes watered and i giggled the whole way through dinner... kachina dolls and getting lost in a giant truck stop at carl's corner.
Sister Sally Says. May 27th. 2011
As per your kind request, in the simplest of terms, Epiphany is a season of the church, beginning on January 6, and ending on Shrove Tuesday. In the West, Epiphany is focused around the arrival of the Magi, and in San Antonio, that can only mean Tres Magos and lots and lots of tamales. If you lived in New Orleans, the season of Epiphany is characterized by lots and lots of parties featuring Kings’ Cake with tiny plastic Baby Jesus dolls shoved into them. (A word to the wisemen and wisewomen out there: always unwrap the tamale prior to consumption and never, ever bite directly into a pastry that may or may not contain a tiny plastic Baby Jesus.)
Facebook. March 5th. 2016
Tex-pat Pro Tip: reheat your hoarded cache of tamales in your rice cooker, using the steaming tray. Also, for a nice breakfast treat, clothe them with a couple of fried eggs.
It is cheat day. Live it up.
Mixtapes From Babylon. November 2nd. 2020
I made this. It was delicious.
Facebook. April 13th. 2015
we are good at a lot of things and getting better every day. one thing we are not great at is taking pictures. but i have all these snapshots stored in my brain, envelopes full of mental polaroids...
the envelope marked first date would have pictures of the teenage girls who complimented your beard on our first date (remember how long it was!), of us eating breakfast tacos at the farmers' market, of the grin i couldn't wipe off my face for days afterward.
