The Tamale Guy

One of the best things about going to the annual local craft beer festival with my husband is the food trucks. More specifically, the tamale food truck.

It's hard to find good tamales in Washington...   But the tamale food truck makes some really good ones, and takes me back to when we lived in Southern California and my favorite thing about where we lived.

The Tamale Guy Hunt.

We lived on the north end of Corona in a cute little residential neighborhood, that was about a 45 second drive from being in the middle of cow country.  Cold mornings were not without their own special aroma.

But, if I got a hankering for tamales, I could throw the kids in the car and drive around Cow Country, looking for the Tamale Guy.

I'm pretty sure the Tamale Guy wasn't here legally. I'm pretty sure the Tamale Guy didn't have a business permit.  He didn't speak English. He was never in the same place twice. And he sold tamales, that his MIL made in their kitchen, out of the back of his van. Also, sunglasses.

The extent of our relationship was a lot of smiles, and me pointing at a clipboard to tell him how many I wanted.  There was never a line for "ALL OF THEM."

And he was pretty much my favorite thing about living where we lived. It sure as heck wasn't the drive into Orange County.  I would happily have brought him with us if I could.

I really miss the Tamale Guy.