Andrew Schroeder

I was headed into work this morning when I noticed yet another giant white truck selling food items in downtown Minneapolis. In the past, I’ve made the decision to judge every city I travel to/live in by the quality of its street food. For example, New York introduced me to the beauty of spicy squid on a stick. In Mexico City I had the distinct pleasure of having a five-course meal of nothing but delicious nibbles found on the street. Montreal and Sofia, Bulgaria both rocked the bagel-like items. Istanbul made me squeal with an amazing grilled mackerel sandwich on the Galata bridge. Street food truly is an indicator of the health of a city, its people’s participation in the public sphere, and a commitment to the exchange of energy and life which can only happen in public.

Back to Minneapolis. If I am to apply my criteria for evaluating street food, Minneapolis gets little more than a D-. The effort is there, but the joy, the spontaneity…. the people…. are no where to be found. Instead, I am greeted by the rather gruesome display of a giant, flaccid turkey drumstick roasting in the morning haze inside a pristine white snatcher van.  Yippee.

Tengo Sed

I’m thirsty to travel again after making a pilgrimmage to the great state of Iowa this weekend. Yes. I went to Iowa. However satisfying as a deluxe tostada from Taco Tico may be… I wish that I were in Mexico City at the moment.

Just a couple quick links before the workday really kicks off:

Sinking of Thirst: Mexico City and Water
Dry Taps in Mexico City: A Water Crisis Gets Worse

From Good Blog:

Perfectly fitting that I find this in my web wanderings between tasks this morning. I had a great dream last night about riding in the Mexico City metro… bouncing along underground and listening to pirated ABBA cds being blared at me from vendors with portable speakers.