I'm looking for the Tofurería

Yesterday, I walked to the Zona Rosa to buy tofu at this one Korean store that sells homemade tofu. Every time I go, though, I'm never really sure what street it's on. Londres or Hamburgo? London or Hamburg?

That's how it goes here. Streets in the same neighborhood are grouped thematically. Since the Korean stores are in Colonia Juárez, they are mostly named after European cities, like Hamburg, London, or Florence. In my colonia, the streets are named after Mexican states; in Colonia Cuauhtémoc, rivers; in Colonia Nápoles, US cities; and in classy Polanco, thinkers and scientists like Aristotle and Galileo. I suppose all streets can't be named Benito Juárez...

In addition to confusing street names, some stores have no name or, rather, a generic name ending with -ería. Take whatever it is you're selling -- frutas, for example -- add an -ería to the end of it, and your name becomes frutería. So we have chocolaterías, joyerías (jewelry stores), neverías (ice cream stores), jugueterías (toy stores), tintorerías (drycleaners), pozolerías (pozole stands), taquerías, etc.

Well, the Korean store that sells tofu not only sits on a nondescript street, it also doesn't have a name. Really, no sign. Nothing to identify itself except by the piles of napa cabbage in the doorway. So, in the art of adding -ería to whatever's for sale, I'm going to give the nameless Korean store that sells tofu, tofurería. To the kimchi store around the corner, kimchirería. And to the non-existent, I hope you open soon pho restaurant, phorería.

Another reason I can't fully be vegetarian

Photo by Phigonggol (Flickr)