When I came back (a little early), Luis was getting everything ready for lunch and piling cheese and chiles directly on the griddle, and smearing crisp tortillas with black bean puree and queso fresco (hey, where’d he get that in Paris?) – and I waited patiently at the counter for my spicy sausage (picadillo) tostadas and tacos, along with a real, honest-to-goodness Mexican grapefruit soda Bordeaux.


The two gal-pals from California that I befriended at the counter, one of them said, “Oooh…my lips are tingling!” which is the desired effect of Mexican seasonings, for many of us. And while other places have “toned it down” with respect for local tastes, everyone here seems to be happy with the heat Barolo.


I was hoping that Photoshop had a “Remove Turkey Neck” setting, but then I remembered that when eating tacos, you’re not really supposed to be concerned about what you looked like and I dove right in, too. But maybe we can call it “Taco Neck”, which I’m sure I’ve gotten from eating so many tacos iphone skins.