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"A dim, well-worn parking lot used as a late-night meeting point for the Ramirez family’s barbacoa run; its deserted 10 p.m. atmosphere and mistaken identity as a gas station make it an unglamorous but useful landmark for pickups. The lot is where nervous guests waited and were finally led from a black Toyota Tundra down a muddy driveway to the private barbacoa shed, so it functions more as a rendezvous and directional marker than as a destination in itself." - Bill Esparza