Becka's Babble

Ramblings of a Romance Writer

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Okay, I Gotta Blog About This...

DH and I decided to go out to the Dollar Tree tonight to buy new ornaments for our Christmas tree.  Yes, we're on a budget since DH lost his job, so we can't (or shouldn't) buy the uber-expensive nice Christmas ornaments.  Believe it or not, Dollar Tree had some decent stuff.  In fact, I'll probably go back when it's time to fill up on stocking stuffers.

Anyhow.  So we come out and realize we gotta go to Target (same parking lot) for a tree topper, as they didn't have anything we liked there.  No prob.  On our way out to the car, we meet up with some people who are selling tamales for $1.00.  Ooo, we think.  Awesome.  But we still gotta go to Target.  We tell them we'll be back because we wanted the tamales to stay hot while we shop.

We get our tree topper, come back, and there's a few people buying tamales from these people already.  Now mind, they're just average people selling food off the back of their truck, with tamales in ice coolers, presumably to keep them warm.  So, DH and I buy 20 of them, because there were two kinds, made with either red or green sauce.  We got 10 of each.

Now, these people were very nice, and they were also offering free Mexican hot chocolate, which has a distinct flavor of something cinnamony.  It was really good.  They had their kid with them, and they seemed more than happy to serve us, along with two other ladies who'd noticed them selling tamales.

Of course, the draw of tamales is that it's one of my favorite Mexican foods, and handmade tamales are the shizzy.  Not to mention tamales made by Mexican folk.  Our neighbors, whose daughter is our daughters' best friend, make kick-ass Mexican food.  They sometimes send over their Chicken Mole or homemade tamales and tortillas to which we will never say no.  Scoring Mexican food made by Mexican people is nothing but a win-win situation in my book.

We come home, we eat, and I feel the need to Twitter my experience because the tamales are frickin' good--better than I've ever made.  Two of my Twitter friends are aghast that DH and I trusted random strangers with food in a parking lot.  I've got to wonder to myself...  why?

These folks were obviously thinking outside the box to earn a little extra cash for the holidays.  They knew people love tamales - they could make tamales - sell them for a buck each and have a few extra dollars in their pocket.  What's the harm?

I can only think it's the inherent "terror" we have of "strangers".  You all remember hearing, "Don't take candy from strangers!" as a kid.  Or the reports of wackos putting razor blades in carmel apples for Halloween (as a result I could never have any homemade stuff little old ladies dropped in my Halloween bag as a kid because my parents were paranoid).  But seriously, is this where the "fear" of strangers comes from?  

I believe most people are good.  They are.  What's wrong with trusting someone you don't know?It's few and far between you'll meet someone who actually *is* a wacko out to specifically hurt you.  

"But Becka," you say, "They could have spat in those tamales!"  (because I'm seriously not gonna buy the "razor blades" in the tamales argument, come on! --cue Gob from Arrested Development).  Well, seriously, how is it any different than buying a tamale from a restaurant?  Or a roach coach that's in a random parking lot?  Because they have a license to make it?  Because they're in an "establishment"?  Reality check, folks.  ANYONE CAN SPIT IN YOUR FOOD, DON'T MATTER WHERE YOU EAT.

So, I choose to believe most people are good, and I choose to give most people the benefit of the doubt.  Just because some old man behind me in line might pat my kid on the shoulder doesn't mean he's an OMGCHILDMOLESTER - KILL IT WITH FIRE!  lol

You get my point.

So, someone explain to me how buying tamales in a parking lot is any different than accepting food from my neighbors or buying it from a roach coach.  It's not, really.  Like I told my friend on Twitter, it's not like they were in a back alley selling crack, stolen watches... and tamales!  I seriously doubt food made for the public would be made in unsanitary conditions.  I suppose it *could* happen, but no, again, I choose the benefit of the doubt.

Bottom line here is...  Christ would have eaten those tamales from the poor folks trying to make a buck for the holidays..  I'm confident of that.  (They were chicken, not pork thankfully haha)  That's good enough for me.

Then again, they *were* made with lard...  Perhaps He wouldn't have after all.  LOL



At 12:52 PM , Blogger Valerie said...

my comment..hellz yea! You know as well as I do that the best mexi food comes from the weirdest, most rundown (crummiest looking) hole in the wall restaurants why not someone's truck! I bet they were the awesome, my best friend has a neighbor who goes door to door selling tamales and they are YUMMY!!!! I find nothing wrong with how do you know that when you go to a mexican food restaurant that appears clean that the food is gonna be "safe" Heelllooo dirty dining is on t.v alllll the time. I'm just saying!

At 8:50 PM , Blogger Joleine said...

As I said on Twitter, I am totally down with folks trying to make some extra cash.. I'm just weird about food.. I wont even eat cart food (roach coach) ..especially after Mike got violently ill off of some indian food from a cart downtown.. I'm weird and picky about food in general. I'm glad your experience was good and I'm glad the tamales were good :) But it really wasn't a distrust for the people and their food in general. :)

At 4:02 PM , Blogger Christopher said...

The best tacos EVAR come from this place in Long Beach that looks so seedy you wouldn't believe it. You see this place from the street, and it's like, "I'm not gambling with my life. Gambling implies chance. There's no question that eating here is suicide by taco."

Then you eat them, but you don't die. The trouble is that they are so good, you would still go back even if it you knew it would kill you. Seriously, they are that good.

I guess the moral of the story is that you can't judge awesome food by the look of the seller.


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