Food For Thought

Washington Post, Jan. 1, 1897.
LICENSES FOR ALLEY COOK SHOPS.Judge Kimball Decides They Are LiableTo a Fee of $25 a Year.
The alleys of this city are filled with colored cook-shops, which heretofore have paid no license fee. Judge Kimball said yesterday, however, that every one of them must pay $25 a year. Only the police and the people who visit the numerous alleys and little streets of the city know how many of these cook-shops exist. The colored people generally resort to these places for pigs' feet, meat pie, and substantial provender prepared by the old mammies and quaint old colored men who run them, and cook dishes to the taste of the people of their race.
The police yesterday brought into court, as a test case, Keith Sutherland, who has conducted a cook-shop for many years at 1111 R street. He was released on bonds after he took out a license, and as the matter has now been tested the police will bring all the proprietors of unlicensed cook-shops to the Police Court. shorpy.com

• I bet if a person dressed like they were somebody, were very personable and clean they could make a fortune with one of those food carts in a downtown area.


• There used to be a guy called the Burrito Man in Decatur who sold me a breakfast taco one morning. About the time I realized something was wrong with the bite I was swallowing it caused me to cough and a multi bladed chunk of metal flew out of my throat and bounced off the wall. It looked like the blade from an electric razor and it was obviously part of the processor he used to shred the meat.


• Ever had hogs head tamales? I had a neighbor once who was an Indian from Mexico who would make them and give me some every once in a while. Unforgettably awesome.


• I think she was sweet on me.


• She never wore any shoes- even in the winter.


• I think she also dabbled in some kind of voodoo.


• But, man she made some good tamales.


• I think she did cast a spell on me- with those tamales- every time I think of them I get a funny feeling and my mouth waters while I sit there rocking back and forth.
• Nom, nom.


• When I was a very poor construction worker me and two Mexican dudes stood around in the kitchen and warmed corn tortillas and bologna over the open flame of a gas stove- it was very good. I remember making one laugh until he choked (I knew enough Spanish to be dangerous) and then me and the other one laughed at him.


• That was the last time I ate baloney.