One of the local tex-mex joints in Greenpoint is called Friducha. A few lines of perfectly placed colorful flags, a mural on one of the external walls, and a fuckin’ solid meal with every visit makes it worth consistent visits.
Never has it been one of those places (for me) that results in a little food jig, or blows the mind away, but a solid “B” rating every I’ve eaten there—which is relatively frequently—makes it worth talking about.
I sat down to write this newsletter, and as per usual, I asked for a word to inspire the content. Perhaps it was the Mexican music playing in my headphones, maybe my proximity to the restaurant itself, or even a growling stomach that begs for anything (preferably food based) burrito sized and shaped to swallow…no matter the reason, my loud and proud internal dialogue shouted, “Friducha!”
I seriously considered requesting a second topic, but when you’re playing writing roulette, you best be ready to play with fire. So play with fire I must!
Let’s follow this strange little thread that poked out of my brain/inner voice/wherever things like this stem from, and see what we’re working with here, shall we?
I had to Google the meaning of Friducha since I never made it past level five of Spanish Duolingo, and my brief Costa Rican residency was a massive fail in the “learn a new language” department. Aha! Speaking the Spanish language may not have helped me with this one!
"Friducha" is a Mexican Spanish diminutive of the name Frida, often used as a term of endearment, similar to "little Frida" or "dear Frida". —Google AI Overview
Ummm Ok! Now I love that restaurant even more! And since I don’t think I’ve ever actually eaten inside (Covid street patio, delivery, and pick up only for me for varying reasons, mostly because WHO CARES!? I haven’t eaten, inside, OK?!), I can’t even confirm or deny whether there is a nod to Frida in any way shape or form—I feel like my mind is placing a portrait of her behind the bar but that might not be even close to true. **I did later confirm with a trusted source that there are “a ton” of references to Frida throughout the space. And just now found this logo I’ve obviously never seen before.**
I sift through my brain to think of all I know about Frida Kahlo—to be honest, it’s not a lot. I know she was a revolutionary artist and that she painted many self portraits that were meant to ….. were they political? were they feminist? I honestly don’t remember, or more embarrassingly, maybe never knew. I definitely read about her in one of Lulu’s “Here are Some Women of History that You Should Definitely Know, Kid” books that we rented from the library, but even those 5-7 lines of rhyming content are slipping my mind.
I am seriously considering doing a good ol’ “Frida” search just to learn more about her for this piece but that feels like cheating since I keep this stream of conscious until I edit…MUST STAY HONEST!…
Guys! I’m not stupid. I’m not uneducated, I’m just a mother of a toddler with a friggin’ strainer for a brain. At least I hope that’s why things don’t stay in there anymore.
FUCK! It is really bothering me that there is nothing notable revealing itself to me.
And even more embarrassing, is I am CERTAIN we studied her in art history….and yet, nothing…not a thing.
**Even 3 days later!!!!!! as I edit this, I have 0 Frida details. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada. But I do have 4 words for “nothing”.
.
.
.
So here I am feeling really stupid and really uneducated, while also questioning what I would do with more information about her anyway? Spout out “Frida Facts” when her name comes up probably less than a hand full of times in the remainder of my life?
Which sparks another question: Do I need accessible and sharable information about cultural topics in my mind to be intelligent and interesting?
Oooh! There’s the big knot in my thread!
I have been thinking about this a lot over the years.
My circle expands and contracts based on no pin-downable pattern, and with one semi-recent expansion, I was spending semi-regular time with a group of what I had/have labeled intelligent women. Who, when hanging out would discuss so.so.soooooooooo many different things:
bands
books
plays
ballets
movies, but more like artsy/cool movies than the cheesy/trashy/delicious ones in my “List”
artists and their exhibits
artists and their lives
travel, travel recommendations, travel related anecdotes
more books
and a lot A LOT of articles from The New Yorker
I love listening to them. And sometimes I have a quippy comment or remark but usually I sit and I listen.
Not a bad thing! Most of us need to spend more time just listening (as I’m sitting over here type-ranting for at approximately 20 minutes, and then stewing for another 40).
And yet, every time I’m around them or another group of just as/more than informed humans, I am utterly astounded by their ability to recall names, details of that person with the name, and personal thoughts/emotions/memories associated with experiencing that person or that thing they created.
DUDE! HOW?! I’m over here like “Who’s that guy that looks like that guy in the movie about that thing that happened in the place with that girl from that was in that other movie where she did a thing, but in this movie she did an entirely different thing, and then that guy and that girl, they came together and did something else and then they all lived happily ever after? Do you know that guy???”
But do you know what I can remember? The first 3 that immediately came to mind:
the names of 50 states in alphabetical order
the Greek Alphabet
lyrics to so.many.songs. Not the names of the songs, not the band/artist who sang them, nor anything about the making of the song, but definitely the lyrics. To songs that I didn’t know it was absurd to know the lyrics to until people commented on the absurdity of me knowing them.
A key point just popped into my brain—all 3 things in that list are put to music.
!!Even the answering machine message that my family perfected before a 1998? trip to Disney is still in my brain. BECAUSE IT WAS/IS A SONG!
I’ll venture to guess that not one of those 3-now 4-things have been super beneficial to me as an adult doing adult life things, so what the heck am I doing keeping them in there?
And what Frida-based information and/or other important things might take their place if they didn’t suck up so much room?
I’m curious of the absurd things that other people have stored in their brain holes. Enlighten me to your insides, please and thank you! You talk and I’ll listen over a basket of free chips and salsa!
And in the meantime, I’ll start making jingles to random cultural trivia so I can impress you with all the things I know about that one person from—Oh! You know!—she did that thing that really changed the world and made a name for herself!