Ed and I grew up eating Gordo’s burritos here in the Richmond District of San Francisco. Whenever my mom didn’t want to cook because she was too tired, or she just wanted to give us a treat, she’d get both of us burritos from Gordo’s just down the block. They’d almost always be the grilled chicken burritos stuffed with pinto beans, their delicious reddish-orange rice, pico de gallo, a little hot sauce, and some cheese.

When I got to high school and became a little more mobile, I started exploring the Mission district and realized how good the burritos were there. Obviously now, these burritos are famous in this part of town, so famous that people actually refer to them as “Mission burritos.” At some point, I told Ed about the burritos and how good they were and that we should go together, and he exclaimed, “You want me to go all the way to the Mission to get a burrito?! But I can just go to Gordo’s, and it’s just fine!”

It would have been easier if we were allowed to drive together, as driving to the Mission is far easier than taking the dreaded MUNI from the Richmond, but I think he would have really liked the burritos we had at Taqueria San Jose tonight. This just another one of the million things we never did and will never do together.