Castellita Wins Again

Because I'm a morning person who eats lunch late, when 1:30 rolls around, I'm good and hungry from a productive morning's work as a wage slave at one of California's finest educational institutions.
Then, the race to lunch begins.

Snatching up my purse, I hurtle down the staircase, waving to the security guard as I race out the door. Leaping over the prostrate body of our resident sweetly snoring drunk and veering around the outstretched cup of a panhandler, I trot down the sidewalk, dodging young families with strollers and courting pigeons (is it just me or are they always courting?) who explode skyward as I pass. Swerving around law students bent over with crushing backpacks, I fetch up at the corner light. I tap my foot impatiently, willing the white walking indicator to appear as my empty stomach rumbles insistently. At last! the light changes and I dart up the block and veer into my favorite neighborhood Mexican restaurant, Castellito B on McAllister Street.

They always have a solution to my hunger problem; this time their Quesadilla de Harina. The smiling young chef takes my order and flips a flour tortilla onto the grill, spreading the quesa with a fluid and generous hand. While the cheese melts, he prepares a plate, adds some chips, and shoots my order down to the cashier with a big grin and a "Gracias, amiga!" for me. In the race to yummy lunch, Castellito wins again!