TACOS AT EL RINCÓN OAXAQUEÑO | PHOTO BY SEAN COLLIER

On Sunday, I had dinner at El Rincón Oaxaqueño, a favorite spot of mine. The business, which specializes in cuisine from the Mexican state of Oaxaca, started as a food truck before adding a storefront along Brownsville Road in Carrick.

I’ve seen El Rincón’s food trucks around — there’s now a small fleet, with one usually posted on Butler Street and another hitting area breweries — but the storefront is my preference. I drove past it one day and made a note to return; when I did, I found remarkably flavorful entrees with fresh ingredients and an array of tempting treats (including aguas frescas that outshine any county-fair lemonade in terms of sugary bliss).

I have not, however, seen too many other folks dining in.

Like many restaurants in 2025, El Rincón seems to be doing most of its business via takeout and delivery services. While the economics of modern food delivery aren’t always great for restaurant owners, sending dishes out has become a key component of modern food service. I’m sure El Rincón is doing well with delivery.

I just wish more folks would come in. Because dining in, even at a no-frills spot, invariably is better than getting delivery.

Even if you’re not one to be too bothered about presentation or service, the very act of delivery is a gauntlet of moments that degrade a dish. Transferring a carefully prepared meal to a plastic container, stacking it haphazardly in a bag and then spending a half-hour or so driving it to its destination can be devastating to a fresh meal.

Imagine this happening inside a restaurant — if your food visibly sat under a heat lamp for 25 minutes and arrived smushed to one side of your plate, you’d send it back. When you fire up a food-delivery app, you not only accept this outcome, but you actually pay a premium for the treatment.

Speaking of which: Anyone who has attempted to order a single pizza lately has discovered that the apps have drastically inflated what we pay to get food delivered to our homes. By the time the driver is tipped (valid) and a variety of fees are applied (less valid), that $20 order can easily become $40. If you simply dined in and tipped heavily on the same meal, it’d be $25.

Moreover, ordering in removes all the discovery that’s possible when dining in. Unless you’re prone to meticulously pre-planning your every dining excursion, you’re likely to ask a server for recommendations — or add a dessert or side or two as you peruse the menu. Dining in contains surprises; ordering in often involves checking off the box next to the same thing we’ve gotten a dozen times on the app.

There’s a role for delivery; sometimes, we truly don’t feel like leaving the house. But, as a culture, we’re probably giving in to that urge a bit too much. We praise the comfort and contentment of staying at home, ignoring that laziness and stagnation can often be mistaken for comfort and contentment. We hide from our communities rather than integrate into them, convincing ourselves that isolation is self-care — when it often is the opposite.

Sitting down at El Rincón — or another favorite of mine, Flavor of Puerto Rico, which also seems to do most of its business via delivery apps — is not going to cure society’s ills. But it will boost your mood and make your food taste better … for less money.

If you’re wary, test my theory: The next time you have the urge to order food, put on some real pants and drive to El Rincón Oaxaqueño. Order the molotes to start, and then ask for a recommendation.

If you can tell me you would have been happier with delivery, I’ll call you a liar.