When I go to Puerto Vallarta on the Mexican state of Jalisco’s Pacific shore, I am driven by a memory.
Many years ago, visiting the area with my pal Gary, I had what may have been the best taco of my life.
Al pastor at Pepe’s Tacos, Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico
“I’m not eating there,” Gary said as I made a bee-line for the grimy little sidewalk stand, feeding more flies than patrons, bottles of crema baking in the sun. I smelled fish tacos.
“Dos, por favor,” I told the leathery woman dropping fillets into oil. More
skinny girls & mayonnaise 