Bee Travel
Parallel Tacos
CHRISTINE HICKS- USTA Travel
Two things I love are travel and (good) food. I also love to organize things, so perhaps it's not unusual that I seek linear correlations among them. So when the caption on a photo taken in southern Turkey read something like, "...a beach where vendors sell crepes with sweet and savory fillings...," I thought, "Turkish tacos."

Well, they're not exactly tacos. The reference is to a flatbread onto which is placed or spread a filling, sweet or savory, which is then rolled up and either grilled or served straight up.

Tacos took center stage in my life when I married a Californian in 1979, a man weaned on (what we now call) Tex-Mex cuisine. Then, enchilada sauce and salsa were unheard of east of the Mississippi. I blistered my husband with my first attempt at enchiladas. Super Duper carried LaVictoria brand Mexican food products without adequate warning such as "not to be confused with enchilada sauce" or " already too hot" - critical information, it turns out. But they did have tortillas, thankfully a user-friendly product that didn't require such warnings.

User friendly - that's the beauty of tortillas - whether they're Turkish, Mexican, Israeli, or Chinese. What's a Chinese taco? That would be mu shu, or, wrapped in a more enchilada-like style, an egg roll and, if smaller, a dumpling. American tacos are wraps. Israeli tacos are blintzes. French tacos are crepes. Italian tacos are pizzas. Polish tacos are pierogies. In Russia, it's blini.

Following so far?

This is, for me, further proof we aren't so different, though on the surface we like to think we are. Certainly cultures bring rich traditions to the table to share, legends, stories, customs, costumes, and food, of course. I find it interesting, notwithstanding, that all these are versions of something universal. The taco analogy is just one way to demonstrate the common thread.

Tacos (okay, really tortillas) notwithstanding, there's further, er, proof. Take, for example, "white lightening." It's decidedly American. It's clear; it's liquid; it's alcoholic. I wouldn't touch the stuff myself, but if I wanted a clear liquid alcoholic drink anywhere in the world, it's there. Clear liquid alcoholic beverages are universal. In Turkey, it's raki. In Greece, it's ouzo. In France, it's Pernod. In Russia, it's vodka. In Britain, it's gin. In Japan, it's sake. In the Czech Republic, it's Slivovitz.

These are observations, if you'll allow me, in a broad way about the family of man, that we are far more alike than we generally admit. Despite distance and differences of opinion on, well, everything, at our core we share some very striking similarities. Slim or fat, when we belly up to the dinner table, we all have a taco with which we are familiar.

So, next time you're out of town, out of the state, out of the country, when they hand you the local equivalent of a taco, or a clear aperitif, remember you're celebrating at the table of man...no matter what they put inside the tortilla.

(Christine Hicks-Usta has enjoyed more than 30 years of globe-trotting as a member of the travel industry in various capacities. Direct questions to her at Bee Group Newspapers, P.O. Box 150, Buffalo, NY 14231-0150.)