Bagels and pizza were common when I grew up on Long Island in the very late 60s and early/mid 70s. That’s not surprising — it was a heavily Italian and Jewish immigrant neighborhood.
Chinese food was plentiful and easy to find too.
We considered ourselves connoisseurs of all three cuisines and had strong opinions.
Pita bread was common, and I thought it looked nifty — bread! with a pocket! But my parents gave me the idea that only Gentiles ate pita bread. I think my Mom just made that kind of thing up when she wanted to shut us up. I don’t blame her for that. As a Mom raising three Jewish boys, she had to learn to defend herself verbally.
I was 14 years old when I first had Mexican food. I saw characters on TV eating “tacos” and thought they looked tasty, and the characters seemed cosmopolitan. Jim Rockford had a taco shack he favored. The very first Mexican restaurant in our Long Island suburb opened when I was 14, and our Spanish teacher took us to lunch there on a field trip. We got combo plates: A taco, I guess an enchilada, and refried beans. All of us kids, mostly Jewish-American, Italian-American and Irish-American, pronounced the food gross, particularly the refried beans.
We had Taco Bell and Jack in the Box tacos when I was in college, and I loved those.
By the time I was in my 30s I loved Mexican food, particularly Mission burritos of the type you get in San Francisco and San Jose. Big and fat and loaded with guacamole and Spanish rice and stuff. But I’ll eat a hard taco or twelve and enjoy it if you invite me to. I don’t have Mexican food often, alas, because of the calories.
When I was a preteen, I got it into my head that chili sounded great, I think in part because Heinlein mentioned that Lazarus Long loved it. I first had chili when I was 16 years old on a family trip to California. I thought chili was fine. I still do like chili, but do not love it. I occasionally make a pot of chili, though I have not done so in years.
