Seeing as I graduate in three weeks, my mind is besieged by a surge of nostalgia for the many beloved experiences that have marked my college years. A vast number of memories have been fostered by once place and, in my final statement as the Hungry Gaucho, I want to pay tribute to the finest establishment I have had the pleasure of late-night booty-calling for the past four years. Super Cuca’s, you burrito-bearing minx, this one is for you.

My first ever breakfast burrito was wolfed here while I was still a youngin and came to UCSB to visit my older sister. I woke up with a half-eaten burrito smeared all over her spare bed, and she still brings it up at family gatherings to this day.

My freshman fifteen and faltering bank account can be largely attributed to the discovery of Super Nachos back in the winter of ’05. All I can say is, WORTH IT.

My date and I once bet that we could finish both a burrito and a plate of nachos in less than fifteen minutes. Shortly after puking, the single best orgasm of my life began.

My last meal before leaving to study abroad was a plate of nachos topped with blueberries when a truly stoned thought was actualized. One of my most valuable lessons learned in college: Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

I would really like to thank Jaime, the main man behind the register, for working all those late nights with a smile on his face (and for all the free gaucamole). I would like to thank my friends for all the nachos we don’t remember sharing among ridiculous anecdotes and photographs. Most of all, I would like to thank the al pastor, California burrito for its mystical power to haunt my dreams each night.

It’s been a good run, Super Cuca’s. I will never forget you and if all goes according to plan, we will meet again one day when you cater my wedding.

Until next time,
The Hungry Gaucho