I wish I had someone here to hold my hand while I talk about this. I just feel so strongly about it.
I like food. I like trying new foods. I enjoy my dinning experiences. I have been called an epicurean. All the while, I carry this not so secret bond with an inanimate object that is both filling and (chuckling) nutritious.
The Burrito. Vegan. Vegetarian. Steak. Shrimp. Chicken. Pinto beans. Black beans. No beans. Sour cream. Guac. Rice.
A plethora of options and I have not even gotten to having it smothered and with what.
I have found myself in two very serious conversations about burritos over the last week and I am unashamed. Now, does my relationship with the burrito require that I manage my eating and working out habits such that I do not have “burritos” hanging over my jeans? Maybe. Okay, before someone else chimes in with it. Yes. But it is worth it. Almost as worth it as my Aunt Sadie’s fried chicken (but I back that up with a big plate of greens (cooked with fatback and cured pork))…tangent. It is worth it. In moderation. Or maybe I can get it naked without the tortilla. Or maybe no cheese?