I’ve been putting off writing this review because I’m honestly kind of heart broken.
All I’ve been hearing about this year are the Walk-A-Tacos at from El Burrito Mercado at Target Field. I mean, the Twins are terrible, so I guess I’ve been assuming that everyone is headed to the games specifically for the sweet, sweet stadium food. All the food at the State Fair is unbelievably delicious, so I assumed that everyone in Minneapolis knew how to feed the fat and sweaty. All year my “friends” have been asking me if I’ve had the Walk-A-Taco, and every time I’ve replied that no, I haven’t made it to Target Field yet, I am met with demands that I go get one immediately.
In all that time, full of expectation and joy at the thought of enjoying a baseball game (no matter how bad), holding a taco with one hand, while my other enjoyed life encased in a foam finger, no one – not one person – told me that the Walk-A-Taco was fucking disgusting.
It costs something like $7.50 and comes in beef or chicken. I chose beef (if you need to know why, then you should go back and read the blog to find out how mean Mary is to me when I get chicken because it’s “boring”). It was 110000˚F out that day, and directly after I ordered my beef Walk-A-Taco, the lady at the register handed me a conical trough of slop that was approximately the temperature of a dying man’s hand. How is that even possible?
The cone wasn’t even made of tortilla? It was made of…I don’t know…corn meal and oil? It was more like a corn chip. It was actually pretty tasty, I guess, if I have to give credit where it’s due.
Inside the cone was what you would find inside of a Taco Bell Taco Supreme, which is fine if you’re going to Taco Bell, because then you know to expect something terrible, but at least it’s cheap, and at least you’re probably drunk or angry with yourself and looking for punishment. I was neither of those things (unless you count being dehydrated, drinking two $5.50 Grain Belt beers in the sun, getting woozy and dying a little inside).
You’re probably saying to yourself “Man, I wish I could ask her if she ate the whole thing.”
The answer is yes. I ate the whole fucking thing, but I wasn’t happy about it. Later, I saw a large woman fall over and start puking all over the ground and I was really unhappy about it, but I patted my belly and was all “I hear you, girl.”
After all of this, I’m glad to learn that the Walk-A-Taco isn’t a severe butchering of The Taco, but rather a terrible take on the Walking Taco, which I haven’t seen at the State Fair, but I hope that someday I do.
