An Open Letter to Jaimé the Burrito Guy

Dear Jaimé-

I guess I wasn’t really formal about things but when I called you my burrito guy, I thought we had an understanding. A contract of sorts. I’d come in every Wednesday morning and we’d banter about soccer and baseball and work and familia. You’d make my #1 Breakfast Slam burrito just the way I like it—eggs cooked but not overdone…easy on the hash browns and maybe a little extra turkey. I’d tip you as well as I could and promise to cut you in on my (yet unfulfilled) Lotto winnings. I mean we never spoke it, but clearly this arrangement was to continue until we were retired and old enough to play bunco together.

But you seem to have disappeared and I’m worried.

Are you OK? Did you get a new job or just have to move on? Was it because I was extremely flatulent that one day? (I really didn’t think you could tell, being that close to the grill and all).

Whatever. My point being that if you are gone, I wanted to thank you and wish you well. And tell you what a great chef you are…and a great person too.


I always liked sitting at the bar and watching you work the grill. It reminds me of that movie The Big Night where the one brother cooks like he’s the culinary Chosen One. When you cook there’s this almost unconscious flow of motion—eggs are cracking, tortillas are steaming and hash is browning. It seems as natural for you to cook as it is for me to breathe and I find it amazing. And you do this all while correcting my pitiful attempts at Spanish and filling me in on Club América’s fortunes in Mexico’s Groupo Uno.

I liked hearing about your family too and your other job at the Shadowbrook. I bet some executive chef gets all the credit (and higher pay) for your work there. Damn gringos.

Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for those A’s tickets you gave me. I couldn’t use them, but a co-worker of mine did and she really liked the first baseman’s butt.

Well, I hope everything is cool with you…and if we meet again, the cerveza fría is on me.

Warm regards mi amigo,

Don