Magic Burrito Bus

We've written at great length about our jones for burritos. We've journeyed far and wide tasting what London has to offer in this area, from the disappointing (the stand off of Goodge Street that had laughably mild jalapenjos), the tiny (that place over by Tottenham Court Road) and the pricey (£12 at the Texas Embassy). But we've finally been rescued.

Among the many fine amenities of our new flat is its proximity to Whitecross Street, which hosts an outdoor market on weekdays ....


... which you can see above (the steeple in the distance is St. Luke's, the former church from which our neighborhood takes its name). One of the vendors is the burrito bus in the top photo, which serves as fine a burrito as you'll find in most of the United States. I order the hot, which I am able to tolerate even with my not-so-hardy palate, so those with mouths of asbestos might consider asking them to make it especially spicy (British cuisine tending away from the super-spicy). We've been here now 10 days and I believe I've been there three times already. If it's wrong to eat a burrito every three days, I don't want to be right.

And maybe later I'll tell you about the Russian barbers on Whitecross Street who singed my ear hair off to make them smooth as babies' ... um, ears.