One of the things I love about Mazatlan is abundance of food available to you when out for an evening stroll. The carts are absent during the day, but as soon as the sun goes down, the streets mysteriously fill with food vendors like moon flowers blooming at dusk.

I don't usually eat from mobile food kiosks or trailers. The stands that set up at every fair or festival give me pause. You can't see anything. Food is passed to you through a little window; how it is prepared is a mystery. I don't know where the vendor came from. I don't know where the food came from. If they make people sick at a festival, there is no real impact on their business. They just anonymously move on to the next festival. I don't trust the hot dog carts that sometimes set up around the courthouse. Something about those hot dogs of unknown origin sitting in a bin of hot water all afternoon just doesn't appeal to me. And mobile catering trucks, affectionately called roach coaches, are straight out.

So you can imagine that I didn't initially warm up to the idea of eating from the food carts in Mazatlan. We went out walking our first night and noticed several in our neighborhood – one at almost every intersection. The smells were amazing, but with our innate fear of mobile food vendors, we weren't willing to risk it.

We went out walking again the second night, and again we saw the food carts. The same carts were set up in the same locations. We began to understand that the carts weren't really mobile food sellers, but rather were temporary kitchens set up each night. And the smells were so tantalizing...but I wasn't quite ready yet.

The third day we were in Mazatlan, we went far enough from the house that we drove the truck. We came home very late in the afternoon, and turned the corner on to Virgilio Uribe just in time to see our neighbor carefully wheeling his heavy cart down the hill to his usual intersection at Virgilio Uribe and Zaragosa. He managed the cart expertly with one hand, leaving his other hand free to wave to all the neighbors who called a greeting to him as he passed.

We enjoyed the spectacle and went home to greet the dogs. We had been gone awhile that day and they were over excited. Soon we realized were starving, and I didn't have anything in the house to make for dinner. We didn't want to leave the poor dogs alone long enough to go to a restaurant, which was a great justification to go try the food cart. Besides, I was having flashbacks of the wonderful smell of the food.

We gave them enough time to set up and made the walk down the hill. We looked at the a-frame menu board that was set up and tried to decide: Papas Locas, Tacos, Quesadillas, Gorditas, Tortas...it was impossible to decide, but my stomach was stridently telling me to choose NOW, so we went with the most familiar – two tacos and two quesadillas.

The beef was thinly cut marinated steak that is grilled over a hot grill. There was a charcoal grill set up next to the cart where the meat was cooked. That first night, the grill was tended by Grandma, who had an eagle eye and a lifetime's experience telling her when the meat was done perfectly. The meat was taken from a bowl of marinade with one set of tongs that never touched anything else. A different set of tongs was used to transfer the cooked meat to a warming bowl on the griddle in the food prep area.

The griddle was managed by a woman whose sole responsibility was to make tortillas. She rolled masa balls, pressed them, and and cooked them on the griddle. If you have never smelled fresh tortillas cooking, I am so sorry. I do believe I started to drool a little bit.

The cooked beef was diced by another woman with a cleaver. Its was pretty impressive to see. She created perfectly cubed morsels in a matter of seconds, a feat that I could never duplicate but was entertained to watch. This woman touched the meat and nothing but the meat. She didn't even try to use the back of her arm to do other stuff like I do when I'm cooking.

The neighbor who we watched wheel the cart down the road took the money and placed already wrapped food in bags. He never touched the food directly, which made this operation cleaner that my local McDonald's, where the cashier always finds a way to touch my french fries or winds up wrapping a hamburger.

There is a bench in front of the cart where you can sit and eat lunch counter style, or you can sit at the table they set up in the street and dine family style. You can choose from an array of toppings and extras – tomatoes, cucumbers, avocado cream, two kind of salsa, and pico de gallo.

We brought the food home to eat since the point of going to the food cart was to not leave the dogs alone to long. Reku, who has never behaved inappropriately around food, followed me from the door to the table walking on his hind legs to get his nose as high in the air and as close to the food as possible. We unpackaged the food and dug in. I have to tell you, Reku's nose is a highly refined tool, and it wasn't wrong. The flavors were phenomenal. The beef tasted more like beef that anything I've been served in a long time. Not water-inflated, hormone-fed beef, but BEEF, the real thing. The tortillas were fresh and tender and marvelous.

We ate at the cart 5 times during our 1 month stay in Mazatlan, and probably would have gone more except for all the other wonderful places to try. You can see some really bad night time pictures of the cart in the gallery. We eventually tried all the things on the menu, but my favorite is the Papas Locas: a baked white potato split open and well mixed with butter and salt, then topped with beef, cheese, and sour cream and served with fresh tortillas – absolute heaven!

That food cart effectively got us over our fear of eating street, so there was no hesitation when we encountered our next must-have curbside cuisine – Mexican hot dogs. We were walking along the malecon near Olas Altas enjoying the sights when we passed by the Bimbo hot dog cart. I ordered mine “en todo” - with everything. I got a hot dog that was grilled with bacon on a bun with mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup, tomatoes, onions, cheese, and topped with sour cream. Then I had my choice of optional toppings: grilled onions, cheese sauce, and jalapenos. I had to have the grilled onions. It was an artery-clogging, dripping mess that was divinely gross and absolutely delicious.