I must confess I have a long and rather sordid history with churros – or, really, with many of the fried dough relations of this Mexican pastry.

It’s a relationship that truly spans international boundaries; in India, there are sopes (not to be confused with the Mexican sope); in Pennsylvania, you find funnel cakes, in New Orleans and France, beignets; and of course, in the US and elsewhere, donuts of every size and shape.

Are there any of you who haven’t experienced the delight of a still-hot twist of sweet, deep-fried dough, drenched in sugar, eaten with the fingers? Even though we know they’re not good for us, they’re hard to resist. We rationalize: it’s only once in awhile, I go to the gym, no one’s watching. Here in Mazatlan, there’s another factor: they’re so cheap they’re almost free. Really! A half-dozen fresh-made churros are only $10. I’m there, unfortunately more than I care to admit.

Churro vendors can be found on many streets, in many neighborhoods, most commonly at the end of the day as the sun is going down and folks are making their way home from work. After extensive research (ahem) I have found a favorite. In the interests of fairness (but not your waistline), I encourage you to conduct your own independent taste-tests and report back with the results.

In Centro, at the corner of Aquiles Serdan and Angel Flores, there’s a steady stream of customers at Maria Isabel Garcia’s small churro cart. Using her mom’s recipe – a simple batter of flour, sugar, cinnamon and water – she fills a special extruder, like a big pastry gun, and shoots thin, ridged tubes into hot corn oil, cutting the thick dough into 4-inch lengths by hand. The churros bob and cook, and once they’re a perfect golden color, she removes them carefully and dredges them in cinnamon sugar, where they await your order.

Maria’s been making and selling churros here for 20 years - longer than her daughter (and assistant) Carla Isabel has been alive. Her parents had the business before her; chances are Carla will continue the tradition, too. The women are busy, smiling as they work. On an average day, when the weather’s warm, they sell about 400 churros – 100 an hour – usually six at a time, packed in small brown paper bags that fit, still warm, in your hand. When it’s colder, says Maria, they sell more.

Granted, there are other churro stands in other neighborhoods around Mazatlan; Maria’s happens to be near where I live and shop. Hers, though, seem to be perfect every time (believe me, I’ve done the research): crispy on the outside, tender on the inside; the right proportion of canela (cinnamon) and sugar; clean oil for frying, at the right temperature, so no aftertaste. Those of you who cook know it isn’t easy to deep-fry anything and get consistently good results; perhaps Maria’s secret is that lots of practice has made her process perfect.

I have to ask: how many calories? She laughs and shrugs. After all this time, does she still eat them? Claro que si, of course, she says – but only her own, because they’re the best.