Ok, so I’m alive, sentient (well sort of) and in the wind (“dans le vent.”)
I’ve had Sabrett’s hot-dogs from push-carts in NY since I was a medical student (my daughter even ran and egg cream one and got into college based on her essay on that experience plus a few incredible grades), fish tacos from a truck in San Diego many years ago, and been invited to the Camion Qui Fume by its owner/chef who never honored my request to jump the hour plus line to sample her wares.
So I’m not totally out of it.
But, the day this was written, en route home I passed a long-abandoned railway station on the rail line that linked the stations in Paris, a sort of precursor to the peripherique for cars or Petite Ceinture for buses and what should be sitting there but a camion serving up tartes. Not my great passion but gotta support local industry, right.
Sidled up to the bar, looked over the offerings
- Carrot – are you kidding?
- Zucchini – Lord!
- Chocolate – too early or late
- Passion, etc, give me a break
- Apples and caramel, huummmm
- Orange and ginger – could be a winner
- But then there Three Hams with Old Mustard.
Got it!
But of course, the quiche disappointed, ah Colette can do it better.
Too bad.
But when the San Diego Fish Taco Truck trucks in, I’ll be there.
