Read Related: Love Rehearsals: A Quinceañera Tale“Uh-huh, and when I walked in he waved at me like we were old friends.” “Noooo!” Xoch leaned across the table and gasped. “What did you do then?” I asked. “I served myself a plate of tostadas and I looked for you guys. You wouldn’t believe all the camarón and carnitas he had.” She gestured with her hands high above her head. “Oh, my goodness, the food was so delicious I thought I was going to die. They had this mole…”
“You talking about the owner of Salsa Caliente Taquería on Mission?” Paca nodded, shaking the coiled bangs that framed her round face. Ambrosio Zepeda had opened his business two years ago across the street from Delfina Mora’s. He was always competing with Delfina, the owner of Taquería Fina. It was so annoying to see his fat face on flyers all over the neighborhood. The man acted as if he invented the taco. Fina’s restaurant opened in 1979. It was a Mission institution. My family were loyal customers ever since I could say, “Beans and cheese please.” Taquería Fina was where we all gathered for graduations, birthdays, and funerals. I would never think of entering Salsa Caliente. It would be total blasphemy, even though I heard Ambrosio makes a mean taco de pescado. Paca tapped her pointy leopard-print heel on the floor nervously.