The reddening sky dripped down over the Southside like a sweet fresa topping. I leaned against the side of the car as strands of hair blew into my face, trying to focus on the dessert menu painted skillfully on the food truck; tonight, I was desperately craving a mostly sinful selection of dulces from Churros Meoqui, 5728 S. May Ave.
Situated in a cracked and aged parking lot where I think a church once met, Meoqui is a favorite that I have sampled before in a somewhat different life, once when I covered an Energy futbol game having a special celebration of Latinx culture. While I can’t exactly remember what I ate back then, I sure do remember that I liked it quite an obsessive bit.