Back in the halcyon days of 2012, I wrote what could be considered my last word on Cinco de Mayo, a holiday which originally celebrated the Battle of Puebla, in which a Mexican army defeated an occupying French army, a victory which slowed but did not stop the French from establishing a Second Mexican Empire. Cinco de Mayo was a Pueblan celebration, but it was repurposed in Los Estados Unidos to boost tequila sales, thereby making agave great again.
Back in the stupid days of the 2016 presidential campaign, un baboso Tío Tomás para El Trump warned of the peril of taco trucks taking over ever corner of 'Murka:
I don't have a taco truck on any of the corners of my block, or my neighborhood. My go-to taco truck, which recently upgraded from being a mere taco stand, is in Brooklyn, and it happens to be run by some gents from Puebla. Most of the Mexican eateries in my neck of the woods are run by families with roots in Michoacan and Jalisco states. A couple of decades ago, they were probably a bit perplexed by the number of gabachos who came in to dine on May 5th, but business is business, as the tequila importers realized years ago.