I begin the account of my visit to Columbus with the humble yet beloved taco trucks that dot the city, dispensing Mexican street food: burritos, tacos, and–my favourite–chicken tamales in corn husks. There were two such trucks within a block of the apartment where I was staying. I had no idea that Columbus had a substantial Mexican population, almost 6% according to the most recent census. It’s the Mexican capital of Ohio.
This wasn’t my first encounter with the taco truck during a poetry tour. When I read in Chicago a few months ago, I happened to be at the right place at the right time when the Tamale Spaceship landed in the middle of downtown:
A queue quickly formed, and trusting the locals to know a good thing, I followed suit. It was worth it. The hot tamales warded away the chill Chicago wind.
Soon after I arrived in Columbus, Ohio, I discovered that I was surrounded by my favourite comfort food. I bundled up against the cold and walked a couple hundred feet over to Junior’s Tacos:
Now I’m back in Toronto, on the lookout for taco trucks.