Tacorama

Slightly sponsored post… I received free delivery*, as Taco Boy dropped me placating food, whilst taking my husband out to play.

As you know I don’t usually post on weekends, because: party animal, however this day I shall have to make an exception for I have found culinary Nirvana, and it’s name is TACO BOY.

Here is what he looks like:

Taco Boy at Noosa Junction

And unfortunately, here is what he looks like inside:

Get out of the way Angus, I’m trying to get a pic of Taco Boy

However, if you can avoid or ignore “Charming Prince Angus”, ye shall find great riches reside within. Tonight I sampled the beefy riches.  Unfortunately I’m no food stylist, so you’ll have to make do with my shonky photos, but make no mistake, these crispy tacos were muuuuuch better than my pic implies.

Some of you who have seen me eat know I’m a complete pig when it comes to the amount of food I eat (lots), and the way I eat it (fast), and also that Mexican is my favourite food in the known world, so I’m pretty fussy about how I want it. No beans (gross), just the right amount of cheese (too much = stomach ache) and a bit of spice without giving me ring-regret tomorrow.

But I digress: the beef was tender and perfectly seasoned, just the way I like it. The tacos had crunch, and seeing as I had take-away, that’s no mean feat (take-away Mexican is usually a no-go as far as I’m concerned as it ends up a sloppy mess of stooge and sour cream by the time you get home).

I downed the lot in about 2.6 minutes, and was left feeling satisfied without one of those foul cheese and sour cream induced comas, requiring a good lie down on the couch (I may currently be lying on said couch, but that’s not Taco Boy’s fault).

Would I recommend you go to Taco Boy?  Shit yeah.  Tell ’em I sent you.  It won’t make any difference, what I had will set you back $7.90 just the same, but if you go between 11am and 4pm you can get a deal which includes a free drink.

Now please excuse me, I have schoolies befouling the streets around me, and I need to go and be a grumpy oldperson, and look on them disapprovingly from my balcony, jealous in the knowledge that I am: a) old and b) only one more husband’s-stolen-stubbies away from bedtime.

Night peeps. I shall now retire to have sweet dreams of Victor Sifuentes from LA Law (assuming he was actually mexican..?)

PS Piss off yelling schoolies, in my street, it’s bed time you annoying idiots.

* Delivery is not a thing: that was my “fee”