Taco Bell or Taco Hell?


C14, Reporter

As any resourceful student would, I began my extended weekend with a trip south of the border.  Deep in the land of cacti and chihuahua lies a quaint Mexican canteen known for their succulent, buttpee-inducing cuisine.  “Taco Bell,” as the locals call it, prides itself on its humble roots.  Founded in Downey, California – Little Mexico City – in 1962 (the Mayan year of the rabbit) this organization boomed to tremendous heights in the coming decades.  Deriving its name from the Spanish terms “Taco” meaning “delicious” and “Bell” meaning “biohazard”, Taco Bell proved to be an irresistible pit stop on my Latin American getaway.


At first glance, Taco Bell appears just like any other Mexican-style fast food establishment.  The warmly lit, modern decor provided a homey sensation that I had not felt in years. Vibrant colors and ethnic wall paintings calmed my nerves and allowed me to let down my guard amongst the hordes of quesadilla engulfing 25-year-old males.


Venturing to the counter, I contemplated my order.  After seeing countless ads for the Quesarito – a lethal burrito & quesadilla conglomerate – I figured it was time to see what all the fuss was about.  In the mood for some more pancreas killers, I decided to finish off my dinner with a churro and a supersized Mountain Dew Baja Blast.


Upon first sinking mis dientes into the lukewarm Quesarito, I was suddenly tossed from reality into a world of greasy Nirvana.  For a brief moment, the restaurant was filled with nothing but the sweet sounds of mariachi.  The ceiling suddenly broke open and the deity Quetzalcoatl descended upon the diner with all of his glory.  It was in this fit of confusion that I moved on to the churro.  A sugary treat baked in the heat of Guadalajara, this churro satisfied my taste buds while gently quelling the Quesarito-induced hysteria.  Sure, the psychedelic properties of a $2 quesadilla seemed highly alarming, but it added to a dining experience that can be best described as “unique”.

As I began my exodus from Little Mexico, I made sure to thank the welcoming staff.  Their hospitality, along with the delicious, albeit unauthentic Mexican fare, kept me satisfied throughout.  Though my cholesterol levels would never be the same, Taco Bell provided truly a rewarding dining experience complete with a crash course in fictitious Mexican culture and history.