Tortillas Quotes

Everybody loves something, even if it's only tortillas.

Whether the Virgin Mary existed, I don't know. But the human need for her to appear in tortilla, that's what inspires my interest.

I could never give up Mexican food. Nachos are usually my go-to if I'm courtside at an NBA game. I always, always get my picture taken with my mouth wide open and a tortilla chip sticking out of it!

Every movie is a road movie. Every novel is a mystery. Every tortilla chip is sacred.

Hillary went to a Chipotle in a tortilla pantsuit.

Timing is everything. Chemistry is something that you don't just throw in the frying pan and mix it up with another something, then throw it on top of something, then fry it up and put it in a tortilla and put in a microwave, heat it up and give it to you and expect it to taste good. You know? For those of you who can cook, y'all know what I'm talking about. If y'all can't cook, this doesn't concern you.

I have a cheese-shredder at home, which is its positive name. They don't call it by its negative name, which is sponge-ruiner. Because I wanted to clean it, but now I have little bits of sponge that would melt easily over tortilla chips.

Tita knew through her own flesh how fire transforms the elements, how a lump of corn flour is changed into a tortilla, how a soul that hasn't been warmed by the fire of love is lifeless, like a useless ball of corn flour.

A small pepperoni pizza on a tortilla is healthier than salmon teriyaki with rice and carrots.

And an inky-colored despair of rejection enveloped me like the black tortilla of depression around a pain burrito.

I don't think I have rebelled against Latina culture. I have rebelled against those who try to make me warm tortillas for my brothers when they can warm them for themselves, I have rebelled against a patriarchal religion. I rebel against small mindedness in all ways and in every situation but those things are not an intrinsic part of Latina culture and I will fight tooth and nail against anyone who tries to make me feel like I'm less Xicana for not embracing the small-mindedness.

Mexico admits you through an arched stone orifice into the tree-filled courtyard of its heart, where a dog pisses against a wall and a waiter hustles through a curtain of jasmine to bring a bowl of tortilla soup, steaming with cilantro and lime. Cats stalk lizards among the clay pots around the fountain, doves settle into the flowering vines and coo their prayers, thankful for the existence of lizards. The potted plants silently exhale, outgrowing their clay pots. Like Mexico's children they stand pinched and patient in last year's too-small shoes.

Introducing Tac-os! It's meat, cheese, and lettuce flavored O's in a tortilla bowl... it even makes the milk taste like tacos!

Taco Bell is going to start selling nachos and chicken nuggets wrapped in a tortilla. In other words, thank God we're going to keep Obamacare.

My mom cooked the same food every day - tortillas, beans and meat. If it was enchiladas, it was - tortillas, beans and meat. If it was burritos, it was still - tortillas, beans and meat.

We walked on the beach, fed blue corn ships to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy and all the other free samples my mom brought home from work. I guess I should explain the blue food. See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop.

I've never met a bread basket that I didn't love. At the same time, it can make me tired. If I have too much wine, it's too much sugar. If I overindulge on tortilla chips in a Mexican restaurant, I can really feel it. I think sometimes just watching it and not doing things in excess can really help with whether you feel good or not.

When I think of my Latina side, I imagine family barbecues with carne asada, rice, beans, tortillas and a jalapeno on my plate along with 'Vicente Fernandez' blaring out the speakers. Spicy food. Salsa. Tamales. Family.

Many of the Huichols and North American peyotists claim that when one eats peyote, one is "tasting oneself: if the user is pure, this cactus is "sweet." Barbara Myerhoff, accompanying the Huichols during their 1965 and 1966 hunts, recorded that they urge new participants to "Chew it well. It is sweet, like tortillas.

A sleeping bag is a tortilla for a human.

I tried one [lavash], just because, I was like, "I should know what it is," once I got the part. And it's all right. It's like if a matzo and a flour tortilla had sex and had a baby. It's a dry flour tortilla.

We aspire to make artisanal tortillas on an industrial scale.

At times I think the truest image of God today is a black inner-city grandmother in the United States or a mother of the disappeared in Argentina or the women who wake up early to make tortillas in refugee camps. They all weep for their children, and in their compassionate tears arises the political action that changes the world. The mothers show us that it is the experience of touching the pain of others that is the key to change.

I usually eat six times a day, small meals. For breakfast, an egg and a corn tortilla, salsa and cilantro, and some ham. For snacks, I'll have an apple, some string cheese, a yogurt. For lunch I'll have salad with protein in it and for dinner usually steamed vegetables and chicken or fish.

Zerts' are what I call desserts. 'Trée-trées' are entrées. I call sandwiches 'sammies,' 'sandoozles,' or 'Adam Sandlers.' Air conditioners are 'cool blasterz' with a 'z' - I don't know where that came from. I call cakes 'big ol' cookies.' I call noodles 'long-ass rice.' Fried chicken is 'fry-fry chicky-chick.' Chicken parm is 'chicky-chicky-parm-parm.' Chicken cacciatore? 'Chicky-cacc.' I call eggs 'pre-birds,' or 'future birds.' Root beer is 'super water.' Tortillas are 'bean blankets.' And I call forks 'food rakes.'

I felt completely at home in Mexico - speaking Spanish to my cousins, running around Acapulco and stuffing my face with mole and homemade tortillas. Mexico opened my heart.