Stef Soto, Taco Queen

“Just behind the library, there’s a small playground with a tire swing, a slide, and a couple of benches, and if you weren’t an expert in taco truck terrain, you might consider it promising. But I know from experience that you could park for hours at a playground like that and be lucky to see even a dog walker or two. One of them might come up to the window, but just to ask for a free glass of water.”

These lines show how Stef can’t completely separate herself from her dad and Tía Perla. In addition, Stef also realizes the hardship her family faces, even with Tía Perla as a source of income. Stef’s experiences are unique to her family’s circumstances, speaking to the theme Variation in Life Experiences and Perspectives. While Stef wants to conform to her peers, her life experience has been quite different.

“Scrimping was harder than I thought it would be, but also a little like a game with all of us pitching in to pinch pennies. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner we ate plain beans wrapped in corn tortillas—so many that I still can’t stand them. Mami stitched patches over the rips in my jeans instead of buying new ones. She also took in sewing projects from the dry cleaner’s around the corner, gathering needle and thread after dinner and settling down to repair a seam or fasten a button. I thought I could make some extra money, too, maybe walking dogs or pulling weeds. Mami and Papi said no to that. Instead, they put me in charge of making sure we never left the lights on in an empty room, and agreed to let me chip in the nickels and pennies I had stashed in my piggy bank.”

This excerpt describes the process Stef’s family went through to save enough money to buy Tía Perla, which highlights the struggles lower classes face to get ahead. These lines also show how Tía Perla started as a family dream, and it foreshadows how the truck will become a family project again by the end of the book.

“Julia’s house, behind a tall wrought iron gate, looks like it belongs on a different planet than mine, which is small and painted pink. But really, it’s only a few blocks away. Our grandparents were friends back in Mexico, and it was Julia’s dad who owned the construction company where Papi used to work. When we were little, before Tía Perla. Mami used to drive Julia to school every morning and bring her back to our house every afternoon. Julia and I would haul Mami’s old purses and dress shoes to the front porch and pretend we were actresses. Or bankers. Or spies. Julia always decided, but it was always pretty fun.”

Here, Stef addresses the differences between herself and Julia. Though Stef doesn’t expressly state it here, the suggestion that she and Julia were friends before Tía Perla means that Stef at least partially blames the truck for the end of her friendship with Julia. The comparison of Julia’s home to Stef’s also reveals that Julia’s family is better off financially—another difference that frustrates Stef.

“Most people, if you asked them what their favorite day of the week is, wouldn’t say Tuesday. It’s still early in the week, and Friday is a long way off. There’s nothing special about Tuesday. Except, for me, there’s art class. And in art class, I never hear Mami’s voice telling me I’m too young, or Papi’s nagging me to be careful. I am in charge of the blank piece of paper in front of me, and I can turn it into something as vivid and adventurous or as quiet and calm as I want. There aren’t any restrictions. Except Mr. Salazar’s, of course.”

This section introduces Stef’s love of art. She doesn’t mind the restrictions her art teacher puts on her creativity because she is still free to do whatever she wants within those guidelines, and she recognizes that every art project has boundaries. This is a direct contrast to her feelings about her parents’ restrictions, which she minds because she feels she has no way to express herself or communicate her wants and needs.

“Over the next few days, Amanda tries everything she can think of to raise the ticket money. I go along with her thinking wishfully, Papi hasn’t said no.

At lunchtime, she goes without milk every day for a week—she even talks Arthur into giving up his orange juice—but when we count the change, it adds up to less than four dollars. Amanda teaches me to make her handmade headbands, and we sell a couple to girls on her soccer team but have to stop when we run out of old T-shirts. Amanda offers to babysit her little brother for five dollars an hour, but since she already has to do that for free, her parents just laugh.”

Amanda trying to get her parents to pay for her babysitting reveals Amanda’s personality and her go-getter attitude. Though Julia is not present in this scene, it also offers a comparison between her and Amanda and their relationships with their families. Where Amanda is unsuccessful in her efforts, Julia has had more success in general with her parents, who seem to truly trust her. Stef tends to surround herself with people who are bolder—people she wishes to emulate.

“‘It’s cool you got a blue cast,’ I blurted. I had noticed it right away, of course, but had been too afraid to say anything until then. ‘Was it to match our uniforms? If you want, I can draw a soccer ball on it after the game.’

She smiled. ‘Okay.’

‘And I’m sorry I knocked you over.’

‘I know.’

I didn’t play soccer anymore after that season—our Saturdays were just too busy with Tía Perla—but Amanda and I stayed friends.”

This conversation between Stef and Amanda is a flashback to how the girls became friends. She is initially afraid to confront Amanda because she fears Amanda is angry at her, but after some time passes, Stef realizes that apologizing for harming her is the right thing to do. This scene sets up Stef and Amanda’s relationship as an easy-going one. It also foreshadows the later scene where Stef apologizes for her behavior regarding Viviana Vega and how Amanda readily accepts an apology then, too.

“I join the others in front of the bulletin board, and he points to the letter. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know he wants me to translate. He speaks good-enough English, but when it comes to important conversations and official-looking paperwork, he doesn’t trust himself. He always asks me. I translate at doctor visits and parent conferences, when letters come in from the bank or from the electric company. I’m used to it, but it still leaves me with a nervous pins-and-needles feeling in my stomach. When Papi says he needs my help with Tía Perla, I know he just wants some company. When he asks for help with English, it’s like he really needs me.”

This passage digs deeper into Stef’s relationship with her dad, as well into how her parents still don’t feel at home in the US. The language barrier is one reason Stef’s parents still feel so lost away from Mexico. Stef understands that her father needs her and relies on her for help with his English, and she sometimes carries the weight of his needs as a result.

“For dinner we’d eat leftovers, straight out of their Tupperware containers, and afterward, the three of us would fold laundry in the living room, catching up on the telenovelas we had recorded over the past week. Right now we’re in the middle of El Malcriado. It’s about a poor but beautiful housekeeper (of course) who falls in love with the rich but spoiled son of her employer (obviously). I’m betting that, in the end, a letter will come for the housekeeper, telling her she’s inherited millions from a long-lost uncle. Mami thinks she’ll end up saving the rich man’s life, causing him to see how foolish he was to have ignored her all those years. ‘Then he’ll beg her to marry him, right there in the hospital. Just watch,’ Mami predicts. Papi rolls his eyes at us, but we know he’s just as eager as we are to find out what happens next.”

Stef describes a typical Sunday night in her household. Telenovelas are televised serial dramas typically produced in Latin America. Thus, they are a specific link to Mexican culture for Stef’s family. At the same time, watching television, doing chores, and eating food together comprise a typical evening in many households, highlighting the things she has in common with her peers and with other families, regardless of cultural background.

“Then I hesitate outside the kitchen door. As of this very moment, there’s still a chance I might see Viviana Vega four days from now. After that, who knows? I’m not so sure I want to find out, but I take a breath and step inside anyway.”

While she doesn’t know the outcome of her parents’ decision, she can pretend her life is how she wishes—something she won’t be able to do once things don’t go her way. This quote also shows Stef’s bravery and determination because she forces herself to confront a situation she fears.

“As for that taco truck, she helps pay for those pencils in your desk, those books in your backpack, that uniform in your closet, that paint in your art box. Have some respect for poor Tía Perla, Estefania. She’s an important part of this family, and she will be for a long time if we’re lucky.”

Stef has just learned she’ll be spending the night of the Viviana Vega concert working on the truck. Her mom’s words are a reminder of how much their family relies on Tía Perla and what the truck has allowed them to do that they couldn’t before. In particular, Stef’s mom notes that Tía Perla helps pay for Stef’s art supplies, which plants the seed for Stef to consider the truck’s benefits.

“A little after five o’clock, Papi says he’s going to cook the two of us an early dinner so we won’t need a break when the real crowd shows up a little later. I want to tell him I’m not hungry, but the truth is, I’m starving. Just thinking about one of Papi’s super burritos makes my stomach growl.”

Here, Stef and her dad have parked Tía Perla outside the Viviana Vega concert venue. Stef is still angry about not going to the concert, but she can’t bring herself to maintain the anger when faced with her dad’s food. This highlights Tía Perla’s important role in the family—no matter what her family is going through, Stef knows that her needs will be met, and she owes this to her father and to Tía Perla.

“Then again, considering that Suzy’s is just down the block, they might as well be in the backyard. And it’s only breakfast, after all. They won’t be gone for more than an hour or so. But still, my parents have really left me home alone. I feel like I can do anything. And then I can’t think of anything to do.”

These lines come the morning after the Viviana Vega concert, when Stef’s parents leave her home alone for the first time. Stef realizes her parents might actually be changing and Learning to Trust. Stef’s final thought shows that getting what she wants isn’t as big as she thought it would be. Even though she’s home alone, she doesn’t do anything she wouldn’t normally do, nor can she think of what to do with her newfound sense of freedom.

“El Toro is a bright red truck with a giant black bull painted right in the middle, its head raised nobly as it gazes off into the distance.

A garland of red, orange, and pink hibiscus flowers creeps all the way around Burritos La Jamaica.

On the back of Mariscos el Nayarit is a swordfish leaping out of turquoise water, its knife-edged tusk pointing at a glowing sun.

The trucks are just like canvases, I realize, suddenly seeing them in a new way.”

Here, Stef looks at a group of food trucks parked outside the commissary. This is the first time she’s really looked at the artwork on the trucks and seen how unique each is, as well as how each corresponds to the truck’s name. “Toro” is Spanish for “bull,” and the truck’s red color calls to the red cloths that are waved during bull fights. The hibiscus flowers on the La Jamaica truck refers to Jamaica water, a popular beverage from the region that’s made by infusing hibiscus in sugar water. Mariscos el Nayarit roughly translates to “seafood of Nayarit.” Nayarit is a coastal province of Mexico, and the swordfish design calls to the specific type of food the truck serves, as well as its cultural roots. For Stef, this moment is transformative because it allows her to consciously compare Tía Perla to the art she loves so much. This also inspires Stef’s later work in redesigning Tía Perla with appropriate artwork for the truck’s new name.

“‘Remember,’ he says, ‘you’re leading this committee because you care about art. So tell me, why does art matter?’ He puts a hand over his heart. ‘To you—why does it matter?’

I close my eyes to think about it for a second. ‘To me? I guess because…well, when I can’t think of what to say or how to explain the way I feel…I can…usually…draw it?’”

Here, Stef is stuck for what to draw on the art dance advertising poster. Making the artwork personal will allow the imagery to evoke emotions for others as well. Stef’s dialogue explains how she feels about art and also why she has thus far been unsuccessful in explaining her frustration about restrictions to her parents. Stef hasn’t yet found her voice, but she does so through making the poster for the dance.

“He slides into a smooth, easy rhythm when he cooks, almost like he’s dancing to one of his banda songs. Only there isn’t any music playing—just Papi’s happy hum as he does something he loves and has worked hard for. As the fields scramble to life with the morning’s earliest games, Tía Perla’s kitchen starts sizzling with the morning’s first orders. I call each one back to Papi. With a quick nod of his head, he drops a lump of butter onto the grill and waits for it to melt into a shimmering, yellow puddle. He adds chicken or beef, then bell peppers and cilantro. As the meat cooks, steam rises, braiding the smells of peppers, onions, and nose-tickling spices, before they escape through Tía Perla’s blue-tinted vents. It is the first burrito of the day that sells all the others, Papi always tells me, beckoning new customers with its warm, tempting aroma.”

Here, Stef watches her dad cook, and for the first time since she grew bitter toward Tía Perla, she recognizes how much he loves to cook and, by extension, how the food truck lets him turn his passion into something to support his family. The ease with which Stef’s dad builds a meal speaks to years of practice and a natural talent for being in a kitchen. Stef’s dad’s passion for cooking is akin to her love of art.

“Inspired by the Viviana Vega poster Arthur had given me, mine shows dozens of arms, painted in gray and black and white, all reaching upward. But instead of reaching toward Viviana—they’re holding up paintbrushes and pencils, pastels and palettes. I wrote FEEL THE HEARTBEAT across the top, the ‘art’ in ‘heart’ drawn in bold red strokes.”

This is the description of the poster Stef draws to advertise the art dance. In keeping with the question her teacher asked about why art is important to her, Stef has made the focal point of the poster art supplies. The hands holding the various supplies symbolize the importance of art to creators, and the different colors of the arms shows how art is a universal language that isn’t owned by any culture or race.

“‘Some of these things are so old and unsightly you just have to wonder about cleanliness, you know? And what about air pollution? What about the noise? What if a truck were to hit one of the kids?’

A few people in the audience clap. The man in the striped shirt goes back to his seat, and a man in a green sweater takes his place at the podium. He tells the city council he owns a bakery and coffee shop. His wife, he says, got sick after eating at a taco truck not too long ago. ‘If that happened at my shop, the health inspectors would be all over me. These trucks need to abide by the same rules as the rest of us!’”

The specific arguments quoted here speak to the class discrepancy between food truck drivers and restaurant owners, as well as how food trucks are looked down upon by the community. Since most of the food trucks described throughout the novel serve foods native to countries outside the US, these lines also symbolize the difficulties immigrants to the US face both trying to establish a livelihood and in dealing with prejudice.

“‘I’m not sure I even like her, but I know she matters. To me. She’s our truck. We all worked really hard for her; we still work hard for her. And she works hard for us. My papi always obeys the rules. Sometimes I think he likes rules a little too much.’

That gets another laugh.

‘It’s like he said, he doesn’t want special treatment, just to be treated fairly. So I hope you’ll reconsider. Because even though Tía Perla isn’t really my aunt, she is sort of like family.’”

These lines are part of the speech Stef gives at the city council meeting. After watching her dad on TV, Stef realizes that she belongs there, Fighting for What’s Important. These lines show Stef finally remembering how important Tía Perla is to her family and her identity. While she acknowledges that the truck isn’t really her aunt, she understands how much the truck has done for her because Tía Perla is like a part of the family.

“I’m writing to you because the art program at my school, Saint Scholastica, needs help. We’re almost completely out of art supplies. My art class is holding a dance to raise money to buy some, but we could raise a lot more if you were there.

I’m not always very good at explaining how I feel or what I think. But art helps me find my voice. As a singer, I’m sure you’ll understand.”

These lines come from the letter Stef writes to Viviana Vega to ask the singer to come to the art dance. Though Stef’s request is ultimately unsuccessful, the fact she tries shows that she has grown since the beginning of the book. She knows sending this letter to Viviana Vega is a longshot, but it’s a chance she’s willing to take for the art she loves so much. The final lines also show that art is not limited to any one medium. Viviana Vega’s music is as much art as Stef’s drawings.

“Thanks for taking the time to write to Viviana Vega! She loves to hear from fans like you! Stay in touch with Viviana by joining the Viviana Vega fan club. For a one-time membership fee, you’ll receive regular updates from Viviana, whether she’s on the road or in the studio! You’ll always be the first to know! So many exclamation points and so little help.”

This is the letter Stef receives from Viviana Vega’s record label in response to her request for the singer to come to the art dance. This is a form letter that the label returns to anyone who sends mail for Viviana, and it is implied that Stef’s letter was read by whoever sorts Viviana Vega’s mail, not by Viviana herself. Now that she’s out of options for getting Viviana Vega to the dance, Stef is forced to tell the truth, something she has feared doing. However, taking this step is important as she learns how to embrace her true self instead of attempting to conform to the expectation of others.

“The next morning, Ms. Barlow writes our journal exercise on the whiteboard: YOU WAKE UP AND REALIZE YOU’RE INVISIBLE. WHAT DO YOU DO?

That’s easy: Celebrate.”

These lines come before Stef tells her classmates in art class that Viviana Vega won’t be coming to the dance. Stef’s answer to the writing prompt shows her mindset and fear. Though telling her peers the truth will be difficult, doing so will help Stef with her self-confidence and heal her relationships with her friends.

“‘I don’t know why I say things like that. Maddie thought I was…cool, or whatever. And…I don’t know. Sorry. Anyway, you’re the one who ditched me for Amanda!’

Now I’m the one who opens my mouth, about to lob back an argument, until I realize it’s kind of true. I never thought of it that way before, but the more time I spent with Amanda, the less I spent with Julia—even before Julia started taking the bus to school. It wasn’t on purpose. Amanda and I just had more in common, I guess. Had more fun together.”

Julia admits she doesn’t really mean the harsh things she says, and that she only does it because it earns attention from people. Prior to this moment, Stef had only seen a certain side of Julia but not the whole truth. With this discovery, Variation in Life Experiences and Perspectives is highlighted. Stef begins to empathize with Julia’s experiences instead of viewing Julia through her own lens.

“The joyful, driving rhythm of Papi’s music begins to break up the clumps of middle schoolers standing around Tía Perla. A flourish of horns set Julia and Amanda swaying, shoulder to shoulder, oompah-pah, oompah-pah. Jangling guitar chords relax the worried lines on Mr. Salazar’s forehead until he’s clinking soda bottles with the other teachers. Students tap their feet as they wait in line for the nachos, quesadillas, tortas, and—for Arthur—the wheat-free, dairy-free, egg-free, nut-free, meat-free specialty-of-the-house super burrito that Papi and I slide through the window as fast as we can.”

Here, Stef has just salvaged the art dance by getting the party started with food and music from Tía Perla. This is the moment Stef finally realizes how important Tía Perla is, as well as how much she truly cares about the truck. This is also the moment Stef grows into herself and her newfound confidence, thinking fast to save the dance and its potential to raise money for art supplies.