Today we made the drive out to San Bernardino for a last visit to the Mitla Café. It’s been our go to for excellent Mexican food. Is it an hour drive? Yes. Is it in an armpit of San Bernardino? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes, yes, yes!
I first came across Mitla a few years back while reading a book on the history of Mexican food, and how it spread out from Southern California. Mitla’s been at the same spot on Route 66 in San Bernardino since 1937. It’s a special place. And it’s an institution.
In the late 1940s, a guy named Glen Bell opened a hot dog stand across the street from Mitla. He noticed the long lines waiting to get into Mitla, and decided to investigate this Mexican food thing. The Mitla owners were happy to let Bell into their kitchen and showed him how they made their deep fried, hard shell tacos. A few years later, Bell took what he learned at Mitla and opened up a small chain called Taco Bell.
However there can be no comparison made between Mitla tacos and Taco Bell tacos, beyond the both being tacos. Maybe. Mitla has the best tasting tacos we have yet come across. All new tacos tasted by us are measured against a Mitla taco. So far, Mitla always wins. Because of this, we make the journey out there every couple months. I’m afraid it’s gonna be awhile, hence this last fix.
Adding to the allure is that the place is a bit of a dive. The building has seen better days. It’s the sort of place that if you were driving by, no way in hell you’d want to stop and eat there. But that would be a MAJOR mistake.
The availability of Mexican food in Paris is rather dire. There are a few places, with mixed reviews. The “Best Mexican food in Paris” is an extremely low bar. This is a significant downside to this adventure.
If one wanders through Paris, eventually one sees signs advertising “French Tacos”. DO NOT ENGAGE. These crimes against humanity consist usually of crepes (occasionally flour tortillas) wrapped rectangularly, like a burrito, around “something”. The something can consist of strange meats, french fries, odd melted cheeses and even friggin’ white sauce. Some deviants argue that while these are certainly not tacos, as known to the civilized world, they are a tasty food in and of themselves. I need considerable convincing of this assertion. But then I enjoy Slim Jims.
On our return to our long term stay, we did our last drug run. Hit Walmart and stocked up on very large bottles of Ibuprofen and a bit of Sudafed. For some reason Ibuprofen is frowned upon in much of Europe, and while attainable, is pricey. The favorite drug of expats is apparently Costco-sized bottles of Ibuprofen. We don’t use Sudafed much, but just the fact it’s difficult to obtain makes us want some. We are now drug mules.