Corn and flour quesadillas, my sun and moon...

Gentle cabrones:

As far back as I could remember, I’ve always eaten quesadillas.

It’s my favorite food of all time, partly because it’s the only meal I know how to make, but also because it’s so perfech simple, perfect, and delicious. One tortilla, or two. Corn, or flour. Cheese — preferably from an adobera straight outta Zacatecas, but Monterey Jack or cheddar or anything that’ll melt will do.

Heat the comal, put on the tortillas. Take them off the comal to put on the cheese, then put the quesadilla back on. Cook whatever other food you need to eat as the quesadilla comes into being — as the cheese melts, as the tortillas crisp up according to preference.  Wash it all down with orange juice, the beverage I’ve drank longer than anything — even water. Because, you know, Orange County and shit.

Shake on some Tapatío inside the quesadilla. Eat. Repeat next time.

When I lived at home, I’d eat quesadillas almost every day. When I moved away, I’ve almost always made myself a quesadilla whenever I visited — it’s my thing, and it’s GOOD.

So imagine my surprise a couple of months ago when I came to my parent’s house and opened the fridge. No cheese. No tortillas. No orange juice. No quesadillas.

Did I say “surprise”? I meant “grief.” “Existential dread.” “Sadness.”

Gentle cabrones:

As far back as I could remember, I’ve always eaten quesadillas.

It’s my favorite food of all time, partly because it’s the only meal I know how to make, but also because it’s so perfech simple, perfect, and delicious. One tortilla, or two. Corn, or flour. Cheese — preferably from an adobera straight outta Zacatecas, but Monterey Jack or cheddar or anything that’ll melt will do.

Heat the comal, put on the tortillas. Take them off the comal to put on the cheese, then put the quesadilla back on. Cook whatever other food you need to eat as the quesadilla comes into being — as the cheese melts, as the tortillas crisp up according to preference.  Wash it all down with orange juice, the beverage I’ve drank longer than anything — even water. Because, you know, Orange County and shit.

Shake on some Tapatío inside the quesadilla. Eat. Repeat next time.

When I lived at home, I’d eat quesadillas almost every day. When I moved away, I’ve almost always made myself a quesadilla whenever I visited — it’s my thing, and it’s GOOD.

So imagine my surprise a couple of months ago when I came to my parent’s house and opened the fridge. No cheese. No tortillas. No orange juice. No quesadillas.

Did I say “surprise”? I meant “grief.” “Existential dread.” “Sadness.”

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I’m the only one of my siblings who’s as obsessed with quesadillas as I am. And of those who still live with my dad, they’re health nuts so don’t care for them because of carbs or some shit.

Quesadillas have become a marker of my ties to that house. Even if I ate earlier, I’d almost always make a quesadilla for myself. It was not just sustenance, but a way to remind everyone — including myself — that the Gus of the past is still the Gustavo of today.

So when I saw no cheese, tortillas, or orange juice in the fridge, I took it as a strike against my very belonging there.

Mind you, it wasn’t done on purpose, and I didn’t take it as such. My siblings and dad care for me deeply, and vice versa. But because I do go off into random randomness so much and don’t involve myself in their day-to-day lives the way I should, they forgot about me for a second.

But that second felt like a lifetime.

I felt so sad at the prospect of being forgotten — and it wasn’t just a familial thing. I got the existential feels, fam. One day, you’re a total thing, the next day no one remembers a goddamn thing you ever did. Not fade away, indeed.

None of us want to be forgotten, but too many of us put ourselves in a situation where we do. And as I went to the small garage fridge to unsuccessfully look for at least cheese and tortillas, I realized something. When we focus so much on individual achievements at the expense of helping others…well, don’t be surprised when you end up olvidado.

How are you not forgotten? When you do good deeds for others so that folks will tell others about them. Heroes come and go, but mensches stay forever.

I told my brother — pleaded, really — that day to please, as long as he’s alive and living at my parent’s house, to make sure there’s cheese, tortillas, and orange juice at my house.

It’s been like this ever since. May I never be forgotten…

GRÍTALE A GUTI

This is the column where I take your questions about ANYTHING. And away we go…

I try to open and read your newsletter shortly after I wake up pursuant to your rebut (previously I would wait & do it in Sundays.) Anyway I first discovered you when you were primarily writing the Ask a Mexican article for the Weekly & your insight (amping other things) is always so uniquely terrific!

Pregunta … Por que-why don’t you bring it to your newsletter?  Personally I would love to see at least 1 question per week!  I think that it’s such a potentially great addition to your already great newsletter & I am confident that others would love it as well… just a thought.  Keep up the good work.

It was a fun columna, wasn’t it?

Got a question for Guti? Email me here.

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Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Logo for Nuño Brothers, a tortilleria/panadería/mercado off Estandar in SanTana. They were part of my KCRW #TortillaTournament this year for their good corn tortillas.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “Nobody wants to read a book. You’ve got to catch their eye with something exciting in the first paragraph, while they’re in the process of throwing the book away. If it’s exciting enough, they’ll stop and read it. Then you’ve got to put something even more exciting in the second paragraph, to suck them in further. And so on. It’s exhausting for everybody, but it’s got to be done.”

John Swartzwelder, Simpsons genius

LISTENING:Friendship Train,” Gladys Knight & The Pips. The New Yorker did an appreciation of this group a couple of months ago that didn’t do justice to how extraordinary they are. “Midnight Train to Georgia” is rightfully their most famous song, but the best example of their brilliance is this track — Gladys’s throaty delivery, funky guitar and horns, the Pips offering the best vocal backup since the Jordanairres. Also, Norman Whitfield remains a criminally underappreciated producer.

READING: “Sir Gaiwan: Patron’s Place”: History Today is a longtime British magazine that takes smart, scholarly approaches to things from the past, from across the world. Here, they delve into a plausible theory around the Arthurian tale of the Green Night.

SHOUTOUT TO: Frank, who kindly donated 50 tacos to sponsor a full month of MailChango! Frank wants to plug borrachos — okay!

Gustavo in the News

Conquering the Midwest one enchilada, chili con carne, and cheese taco at a time!”: A Tulsa publication mentions my love of Route 66 Tex-Mex classic El Rancho Grande.

The Los Angeles Times Scores 15 Honors from the Society for Features Journalism”: I got 2nd place in something.

Kind founder, former executives launch Somos, a Mexican food brand built on authenticity”: I get quoted in a CNBC article about the savior of Mexican food in the United States.

Dodgers Dugout: Tonight could be Clayton Kershaw’s final start as a Dodger”: An L.A. Times Fernandomania event I’m participating in gets a plug.

Sonoratown spreads the gospel of Northern Mexican cuisine”: My KCRW #TortillaTournament gets a plug.

Local history is theme of book fair in Riverside, with authors present”: My fellow SoCal columnista, David Allen of the Riverside Press-Enterprise, shouts out an L.A. Times columna of mine.

Letters to Sports: It’s time for UCLA football team to make changes”: L.A. Times readers like, hate a columna of mine.

The glories of pan-fried jeon await in Koreatown”: A LA Times newsletter you should subscribe to plugs the podcast .

Then there were 8: A step closer to handing out the Golden Tortilla”: I speak with my fellow KCRW #TortillaTournament judge about the eight finalists in my KCRW #TortillaTournament

Kitchen hacks, The Esso 8, superweeds, savory pancakes”: I speak again with my fellow KCRW #TortillaTournament judge about the eight finalists in my KCRW #TortillaTournament

Gustavo Podcast

Latest roster of episodes for “The Times: Daily news from the L.A. Times,” the podcast that I host. Listen to them, and SUBSCRIBE. Don’t let me become the Poochie of podcasts!

Min Jin Lee on casual racism and finding truth”: My colleagues Jen Yamato and Tracy Brown bring their “Asian Enough” awesomeness to our podcast.

Are NFTs worth your money?”: Crypto-kitties and digital apes galore!

The ever-endangered, ever-reborn Jewish deli”: I need pastrami — and vegan pastrami, too!

Hollywood’s crews ready to go on strike?”: IATSE is voting as we speak.

Texas abortion law makes this Kansas clinic busier than ever”: I turn the mic over to my awesome colleague Molly Hennessy-Fiske.

Gustavo Stories

Grítale a Guti, Ep. 70”: Latest episode of my Tuesday-night IG Live free-for-all.

Did Cofiroute buy off OCTA’s board members to win $200 million contract to build toll lanes?”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” talks about the subject at hand.

Tortilla Tournament, Week Three: And then there were ocho”: My latest KCRW #TortillaTournament columna talks about the 8 finalists — reminder that I will help judge the Fuerte Four in person next Sunday, Oct. 10. Details above  — GO GO GO!.

Alta Baja TV, Ep. 8”: I appear on my wifey’s IG Live to do random cameos.

Fernandomania”: Latino Rebels Radio has me on to talk about the Dodgers’ magical 1981 season.

Column: A hearty thank you to Dodgers legend Jaime Jarrín. ‘He made me believe that I belong’”: My latest Los Angeles Times columna talks about the iconic broadcaster. KEY QUOTE: “But there’s another Jarrín achievement — probably his most important one — that I didn’t consider until Ortiz and dozens of other Latino reporters across the country, in English and Spanish, posted their well wishes on social media. Jarrín isn’t just a beloved longtimer — he’s the spiritual godfather of every Latino in media.”

Newsletter: An L.A. graffiti classic gets republished”: My latest Essential California newsletter talks about a cool Chicano graffiti book. KEY QUOTE: ““Street Writers” works as a collection of art, local and ethnic history, but it’s also a time capsule of neighborhoods that are now either fighting gentrification or wholly subsumed by it.”

You made it this far down? Gracias! Follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram while you’re down here. Don’t forget to forward this newsletter to your compadres y comadres! And, if you feel generous: Buy me a Paypal taco here. Venmo: @gustavo-arellano-oc

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