When my co-adventurers and I hopped into Troy's back seat yesterday, he told us "you're not gonna get rich driving a cab." And that his girlfriend of 18 years had just left him "because I wouldn't get married." Though he'd just finished drowning his sorrows in soul food, he ended up leading us to
“I don’t have very sophisticated food tastes,” the taxi driver said, “I really like eating at the Coto food court in Ciudadela.” When I explained that we were looking for something a little more soulful than a superstore cafeteria, the taxista radioed his fellow cabbies for help. No one responded. I tried to beat
I don’t believe in coincidence. I do believe we get everything we ask for – whether we’re conscious of it or not. Which is why I’m not surprised that after a week of wondering about the pasta at El Español, taxista José granted my unspoken wish and delivered me there last Thursday. No fooling.
A corner cantina that’s been a magnet for taxi drivers for years, El Español is one of the few places in Buenos Aires where you can still find a cafe con leche and 3 medialunas (croissants) for less than six pesos (U$2). Thanks to its abundant, cheap food, several cabbies have recommended El Español