It was the last full day we had in Ireland, and the last thing on my mind was touring another castle. Sure, Ireland was great. At this point, we had already toured multiple castles, kissed the Blarney Stone, and had some Guinness. I wanted to see more but was also ready to be home. I felt like I didn’t get to experience enough of Ireland because I was trapped inside a castle every day. My parents had sacrificed so much for me to go on this trip, and by the end of it all I wanted to do was be back with them.

We spent our last day in Kilkenny, which is about two hours south of Dublin. The day before, we had driven to Blarney Castle and attended a Medieval-style dinner (my band director refused to let me use the plastic silverware I snuck in—that’s another story for another day). Our last stop was a self-guided tour of the Kilkenny Castle. I got very excited when I found out it was going to be self-guided. Of course, being on a band trip with 50 other students, my group couldn’t just walk out of the castle, but we made a silent pact to get the tour over with fast, so we could walk around nearby shops.

Unfortunately, our plans were ruined by a lovely Irish lady who told us, “Yes, this is a self-guided tour, but you have to follow me.” Even our director was stumped by this new discovery—he thought it was self-guided too. We were only scheduled two hours for the tour and food before we had to leave to head back to our hotel. Don’t get me wrong, Kilkenny Castle was absolutely gorgeous. It was everything you would expect out of a castle, like something you see only in movies; stone walls with beautiful green gardens surrounded the entire castle, while inside, the castle was filled with historical pictures and old furniture we couldn’t sit on. We stood in a room with blue-painted walls covered in paintings when we tried our first escape plan. Our tour guide was trying to explain every single painting to us. We started to climb up the carpeted stairs on the opposite side of the room when we were stopped. We were escorted back to the rest of the tour and we sat through the rest of it. I didn’t care what the tour guide was telling us; none of that mattered to me. I didn’t want to be inside on my last day in Ireland, I wanted to walk on the cobble stone that lined the streets and window shop to my heart’s content.

Okay, to be honest, I was hangry, and I wanted nothing to do with this last tour. I didn’t care about the dang castle—I already saw so many. I wanted food!

When the dreadfully long, self-guided tour was finally over, we only had less than an hour to get food and get back on the bus. For those of you who have never been in band, let me enlighten you to something that every band director will shove down your throat:

Early is on time, on time is late, and being late in unacceptable.

So, when they say be on the bus at this time, it doesn’t mean roll up to the bus at that time, it means that the bus is rolling off at that time. Always be early. It is impossible for me to be late to anything now.

After we were finally freed from the walls of the castle, we made our way unto civilization again. We found ourselves slightly lost and fighting off a light rain storm. My friend Paige and I looked at our phones and found a fast food restaurant within a short walking distance. If you’re thinking, “what the heck, there’s a restaurant within walking distance of a castle?” You are exactly correct. It was strange.

We walked into Abrakebabra, a place of magical food. We weren’t sure what to expect, but we went in anyway. It can only be described as walking into a much nicer and cleaner Irish version of Moe’s Southwest Grill. We walked up to the counter and watched as they prepared our food right in front of us. They had art on the wall that listed every fresh ingredient you can find in the store, along with their menu, and tables of varying heights filled the rest of the restaurant. The two guys behind the counter could obviously tell we were American, and since there was no one else in the restaurant, we made small talk with them and they politely guided us through the menu. But at this point, I had already decided on what I wanted to try. Showcased on a big poster, like the ones outside a movie theater, was my prize possession: Taco Fries.

I confidently stood up at the counter and ordered my dream come true. My love of both tacos and fries would finally be married as one and I couldn’t wait a single second longer before the savory flavors mixed in my mouth.

We sat down at one of the tables overlooking the kitchen and I watched eagerly as the master did his work. He shook the grease off the golden fries and salted them right in front of me. He then turned behind him and covered the fries with their 100% Irish Taco Meat and special taco sauce. He handed me the Styrofoam container and I had just enough time to peek at the fries before we had to run back to the bus. I knew from this first peek that is was going to be good. We grabbed our orders in a hurry and rushed back to the bus. If sped walking was an Olympic sport, I just won the gold.

We hopped on ten minutes early but were still one of the last few on the bus. Everyone else had their food with them and filled the bus so many different aromas. Walking to our seats I saw sandwiches, soups, burgers, and anything you could get within a half-mile radius of a castle, obviously. But clearly, our selection of cuisine was far superior to any others. I opened the Styrofoam container again and was cast under their magical spell. The cheese had melted and was resting on top of the taco sauce. The sauce completely covered the taco meat. The taco sauce had seeped through the fries and made a small pool at the bottom of the container. The fries were the perfect texture; they weren’t too crunchy, but not too soggy, either. The sauce was just like the jalapeño sauce at Taco Bell, but it was ten million times better. It was tangy and creamy with a little kick. I was under their spell. When eating this dish, it’s being taken to heaven, each bite is like a resurrection.

None of the other meals I had in Ireland could even compare to the Taco Fries from Abrakebabra. On any other day, I would have passed by Abrakebabra, not giving it a second thought. But in my panic of trying to find food, I found my happy place. I found the place I will remember forever. My only regret from this experience is not finding out about this place sooner. After many emails and tweets, I am glad to report that they have ignored all of them and will not be expanding to the United States, but I thought I would try.