On my way to NorthPark mall (hyped for my favorite game of "Find a Good Parking Spot and Sit in It With My Car in Reverse While I Eat My Lunch and Ignore Your Honking," which is sooooo much better during the holidays), I stopped by Taqueria La Paloma at Walnut Hill and Central Expressway.
It's a really small building in a strip-mall parking lot, complete with convenient sit-in-your-warm-car drive-through. They offer delicious-looking and ridiculously cheap huaraches, tortas and tacos al pastor, but I was feeling particularly white the day I went so I ordered the chicken flautas instead. Seemed like an ambitious meal for a drive-through to handle, what with the frying and the saucing and the beansing and the ricing. Plus, it was only $6.45 (adding a bev only got me up to eight bucks).
I then had a lovely conversation with the lady at the drive-through window:
Me: Hi, before I order—do you take credit cards?
Lady: ¿Diga?
Me: (hold up credit card, make Keanu Reeves face)
Lady: Oh. Yes. You want sauce?
Me: Yes, please.
Because even when you have no idea what that means, you say yes. (So far, it's only backfired on me once. And every time besides that one didn't require a shower and was awesome. Uncles are so weird sometimes.)
My chicken flautas were great. They came with a sour cream sauce, refried beans with grated cheese on top and legit, corn-in-it-and-everything rice, plus a green and red salsa. Pre-salsa I was like, "Hey! Salsas that are Christmas-y! That's cute!" Post-salsa I did, in fact, pray to Baby Jesus Christ to save my facehole from hate sauce, so I guess they turned out religious Christmas-y and not Santa Christmas-y.
But, what I ordered is not the point of this article. I will now give you knowledge that I was not privy to at the time of my order: At Taqueria La Paloma, you can purchase any of their meats by the pound. From what I understand, for around 10 bucks you can get a pound of meat plus tortillas, limes, onions, cilantro and salsa. Enjoy that cholesterfest, you.