While I’d love to talk more about the fine Korean taco options we have available in the Portland Metro area, I’m instead going to post this picture:
And this quote:
You know what? I’d be more frightened of what’s in that Taco Bell monstrosity than what I get handed to me through a taco truck window.
So, a couple weeks ago I claimed that I’d kick your ass if you bought a Taco Bell Cantina Taco. Leave it to Graham, the Mercury’s favorite on-line (and effectively IRL) troll to test that statement. Last Thursday, at the Blogtown meet-up, Graham brought me an enormous bag of Cantina tacos, which he dropped onto one of the tables at the Landmark Saloon with an ominous thud. It was as if he’d presented me with a bag of drowned kittens. That’s how saddened and disgusted I was. My boss, however, was delighted. For him that bag was as wonderful as a gift basket of blow and dildos.
As any food columnist will tell you: if you're presented with a bag of drowned kittens and your editor-in-chief tells you to eat them, you'd better prepare for the claws.
The Sordid Story Continues After the Jump