Plato's Cave of Mexican Food

I wish I had a cave of Mexican food. But that's not the point.

If you've ever studied any philosophy, chances are you've probably heard Plato's Allegory of the Cave. It goes a little something like this:
(If you know this, feel free to skip the green part.)

There are prisoners in a cave. They have never seen the light of day, each other, anything--the only thing they are able to look at are the shadows on the walls, which they believe is real life (for example, they understand a 'tree' to only be the shadow of the tree). One day, a prisoner escapes. Dazzled by the light, he at first can only look at shadows and reflections. He is then finally able to see the real objects themselves, and understands that they are far more real than the shadows he has been looking at. Finally, his eyes adjust enough that he is able to look at the sun, and understands that the sun is the reason for everything around him--the light, the trees, and his capacity for sight. The sun represents the ultimate form of The Good. Excited by this, he returns to the cave to tell the other prisoners about his discoveries. Unable to understand or believe him, they try to kill him.


So you've probably asked yourself by now:

What does this have to do with Mexican food?

Here it is:

The cave is Chipotle, or any other Mexican food you think is good. It's good food when it's the only thing you know. Everyone in my hometown is obsessed with Chipotle, but I was never satisfied. Was this the best thing Mexican food had to offer? I longed to escape the cave.

One day during my freshman year of college, my friends brought me to Cafe Rio. So began my escape. I saw the colorful atmosphere and fun facts on the walls. Shadows and reflections. Then I saw the homemade tortillas, the fresh ingredients, and the lime-cilantro sauce. The trees, the flowers, the animals. 

Then the Sweet Pork. The Sun. 

Enlightenment. Pure Deliciousness. THE GOOD. The so, so, SO good. The ultimate Mexican food form of The Good. Life in the cave, i.e. Chipotle, will never be the same.

Fast forward two years. Cafe Rio sets up shop near my hometown. I begin to spread the great, enlightening news. But instead of the excitement I expect, I hear anger, denial. Nothing can be better than Chipotle, they say. They refuse to try it, and instead want to kill me.

Coincidence? I think not. 

Plato knew what he was talking about.