As I drove jauntily down East Ave a couple of weeks ago, not on my way to the Cupcake Crusader, I was visually smacked in the face by an amazing sight. A crappy, hand-painted, red and white sign declaring that there were “Native American Indian Tacos” right…somewhere. I slammed on the brakes and tentatively pulled into the parking lot. I stared at the space where I felt the Indian Tacos should be, but no Indian Tacos manifested in front of me. I had already started counting the calories I was about to scarf hard, and my tummy was getting angry and confused.

My love for the “Native American Indian Taco” goes deep inside my DNA. I grew up eating them at fundraisers, in the gym snack bar, at every sporting event, parade, community festival, and for funsies anywhere else they happened to be. The way those ladies back home could bust out a perfectly puffy, partly crispy, yet soft and fluffy, piece of fried dough, then slather it in salty beans and ground meat and some salad type stuff on top…it was soul-warming nourishment. And also, I had a rockin’ metabolism back then so I was basically a deep bottomless pit of daily Indian Tacos.

After several drive-bys, out of my way, and finding no evidence of a taco truck, I started marking my calendar. Sundays and Mondays weren’t working out for me. But one errant Tuesday, on a roundabout route to the Trader Joes, I saw a food truck parked in the sign-spot like a shimmering mirage of deliciousness. California Taco! I barely remember ordering, but this is what I got, and this is what you should get too—an Indian Taco with chicken and everything on it. The fry bread was money and the chicken had that awesome grilled flavor. I folded it up and ate that masterpiece straight to my dome. I am so delighted to have this little slice of my life springing up here; Chico feels like home more than ever.

Luckily, I did not spend all my time this week hunting down Indian Tacos or chasing ice-cream trucks. We put together a veritable cornucopia of coolness in this week’s issue. Scene reports and music features abound, a photo essay about our robust lacrosse movement, and the fourth installment in the Knight of Wands series. And for those of you that follow local grown-up softball, be sure to check out the Synthesizers update and behold Nolan’s coaching prowess as he stoically converts his Bad News Bears into the winners he always knew they could be, when he finally sobered up and started caring.


Sara makes the words happen.