I Died And Went To El Pelon Taqueria

As many of you might know, late last night, the Boston community lost a very near and dear compadre, El Pelon. Who is this hombre you might inquire? This is no mere man, rather an institution, a pillar of our Mexican-American community and the greatest burrito joint in all of MA and perhaps the world (I'm sure many of you would argue that Anna's produces a better burrito, but you are wrong and although I am sure you were raised to believe that you are entitled to your opinion, this time around, you are in fact NOT entitled to anything but a feeling of sadness for the loss of El Pelon).

A raging inferno ravished and razed the once quaint taqueria located on a quiet street just beyond Fenway Park. Gone are the picnic tables once filled with smiling customers enjoying a fresh burrito on a breezy summer day. Gone are the reggaeton beats that once warmed the harsh winter air. Gone is El Guapo (the finest burrito ever to be wrapped in tinfoil). Gone is my appetite.

I hope that you will all remember this day as one of the darkest days in Boston history (next to the Boston Massacre, The Great Boston of Fire of 1872, game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, that day they got rid of free above ground outbound rides on the T, etc.). I hope the next time you pick up a substandard burrito from one of Boston's many Mexican restaurants you think of El Pelon and remember what once was. I hope that you never forget. I hope.

Note: Although El Pelon is no longer physically standing (you can burn a building but you can't burn the ideals that cooked within its walls) its spirit will remain in all of us. Long live El Guapo. Long live El Pelon.