tacotopia

Before the guidelines go into effect on December 1st I might as well take as much advantage as I can of the payola I receive to endorse all these taco joints – a list that includes, well… Okay, I’ve never received a single taco for free.  I’ve been hoping, but I’m still waiting.  I did have a restaurant owner ready to fight when he saw me taking pictures of his shop once so I guess I was close to getting a free knuckle sandwich but that’s about as close to quid pro quo as it has gotten.

So Kevin and I met this morning at a safehouse in his neighborhood, Hermanos Solis #2.  We’d been there before and we knew it was deep enough in the badlands to evade the oversight of the jack-booted imperialist thugs, or so we thought.  I ordered my usual, carne guisada and chorizo & egg with a coffee, not wanting to draw attention to myself by getting something outlandish.  The hat had become complacent though, and got not one but two exotics.

The tacos were good.  The carne guisada fell apart with the gentlest prodding of the fork and the chorizo & egg was quite serviceable.  The warm salsa could have doubled as a tomato and jalapeño soup, but it would be a soup you’d regret eating after an hour or two.  The real standout for me were the tortillas, charlie brown and very fresh.  You can see the cracking in the picture but you can’t see how soft they were.  They gave a little bit of life to every bite.

Kevin & I sat and while going through cup after cup of excellent coffee we discussed our plans for resistance and the futility of holding out hope for freedom in the face of such power as big brother wields, and then – I have a nauseating sinking feeling as I look up and see a blinking red light in the corner, attached to a motion detector.  This place is wired! There’s an improbably narrow and steep staircase leading up to a hidden level containing who knows what!  Have we been compromised?  Hermano is Spanish for, that’s right, ‘brother’… I fear this is a front for the oppressors!  We paid our tab in cash and rushed out as quickly as we could and drove away, but not before seeing eyes peering out at us through the little windows of the restaurant with the good tacos.

From the Hat

This just in from the Ministry of Everything-Except–Tacos:

In the interest of full disclosure, I’d like to say that, If there’s a taco-blog-related form of payola goin’ on out there…where’s the foldin’ money discretely tucked into my shirt pocket?  Or my free taco?  (Not in my pocket, please.)

Early this morning, not even half-way through the paper, I thought to myself, “Hermanos Solis this morning…Oooo good.”  My next thought was “Hermano Soliz this morning… ”Oooo bad!”  I knew I was going to get a good taco.  Good Taco?  Good for my heart?  Good for my waistline?  Did I take my Prilosec last night?  Or will it be a good Heartburn?

Of course I had a good taco.  I’ll get to the details in the safety meeting, but it’s worth noting that I’m perfectly aware of the contradictory nature of a taco.  Sure there’s a bit of dissonance, but I don’t seem to be hampered in my ability to get on in life.  With hardly an acknowledgement of the risks, I sail through breakfast unhampered by the whole problem of taco-evil.  In fact, once dealt with in this fashion, I don’t have to worry about it again until next time.  It’s probably just as well.  Life would be much more difficult if we couldn’t deal with this kind of conflict.

This is a trivial example, but what about when we do the same thing with climate change? Or War? Or God?  (Insert favorite pontification here.)  I’d drag out the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each for one of these topics, but one’s definitely religion, and I’m getting a whiff of politics from the other two.  Not to be Sir Robin, but this is a taco blog…

Now to the safety meeting:  Two good ones this morning:  Tripas and Chicharrones con huevos.  The tripas were clean and crispy – as if they had been washed with a firehose and flash-fried.  Served on a brilliant corn tortilla with cebollas and cilantro, no hint of the north end of a Southbound farm animal here.  The chicharrones offering was good, but not spectacular.  It was a hefty taco and the eggs were delicious, but the chicharrones were under-represented.  The salsa, served hot, is spicy and delicious.  Great café coffee.

Salud

Restaurants are no different.  Some of them are great and die early, some of exist forever with a steady, plodding mediocrity, but a few continue to improve with each passing year.  Eddie’s is one of those places.  Recommended time and again, most recently by Solomon Ortiz, Jr. (who is in no way affiliated with this blog and likely has never read it), we threaded our way through the cluster of taquerias that is Kostoryz Road and met up at this venerable institution. Neither Kevin nor I had eaten here before and didn’t quite know what to expect.  Google maps choked on the directions, possibly thinking there couldn’t possibly be so many taco place in such a small space.  Then we saw the big red neon sign and there could be no mistaking it.

The place was big, fairly clean but crammed full of ‘flair.’  Halloween decorations were already up.  Eddie’s has been around since 1975, and it doesn’t look a day over 25.  A ‘distinguished’ and attractive waitress expeditiously took our order with wit and precision and before long we were feasting our eyes and soon our appetites on some of the best breakfast tacos Kostoryz has to offer.  The coffee was good, and served in a mug that could barely fit through the Panama Canal.  The tacos as well were abundant, but the quantity did not come at the expense of the quality.  The chorizo & egg was good, the hand-made flour tortillas were good as well.  The salsa is from pickled jalepeños and is very good.  The best thing I had was the Carne Guisada, which had a sharp flavor but a gravy that was more brown than red with a healthy dose of black pepper.  It was tender but substantial.  My coffee cup was kept full as was my sonic-ice filled water.

Any two of these things would make Eddie’s a good taco shop, but if you put it all together you have something really special, something more than the sum of its parts, a timeless beauty.  I only hope I can age as well as this place has.

From the Hat

It’s not telegraphed, but usually there’s an underlying theme to the weekly taco tome.  One or two words to inspire.  The goal is to ramble around for a couple of hundred words on something to do with the theme then talk about tacos.  Sounds simple.  Not always.  Today’s theme, “Better with age,” is perfect for a whimsical, rambling, nostalgic thought tour.  Plenty of opportunity to harken back to the old times or to make hackneyed references to wine, favorite boots, or an old chair.

I’m having none of it.  You have to really think about it to find examples of things that get better with age.  Tell it to my eyes, or my truck.  Tell it to the plumbing at my house.  Sure I understand the device.  A mental trick we play on ourselves to help us rationalize our own mortality; to avoid thinking of the unavoidable.

But then I think of my grandmother Caroline.   I’m sure she’d tell you of the wear of age.  But when I see her, I see youth and beauty.  She’s full of wonder for the world and new places.  Full of joy when around her (now-extensive) family.  Still learning – combating technology as a new user to FaceBook.  I hope to learn to live with her joy for life long before I’m her age.

Of course, I’d like to reach her age.  Not likely with a continued menu like this morning’s.  A once-a-week limit on taco-tourism is a good thing.  And so were the tacos…good things.

If Corpus Christi is the land of tacos, Kostoryz street could be its epicenter.  The street offered up another outstanding taqueria, Eddie’s.  Recommended by many, including one of our state reps, the place was really good.

For the SMEs out there, I had one each chicharron and molleja.   I had the mollejas fried crispy.  They were perfect – crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside.  Those who like mollejas will really like these.  The chicharrones were also very good.  Meaty, soft, covered with a chili powder-based sauce.  They were served in very good flour tortillas.  Serious fatties too.  I could not eat both of them.  The salsa was also good.  We will definitely return to this place.  I think I need to try the mollejas with some frijoles.

Salud

Reparo Taquito

Airline at Golihar

Corpus Christi, TX

The proprietors of Reparo Taquito might feel the same way.  While located on Airline and Golihar, an intersection that sees plenty of traffic, the building is free-standing and looks as if it’s ready to move at a moment’s notice.  I tried to find an address on google maps and it just coughed and looked away.  Who doesn’t love a mystery.  This morning even my camera went on walkabout, and didn’t return until I’d come back to my shop.  Kevy’s lovely wife Shelly contributed the use of her surprisingly excellent point and shoot, and the show went on.

The place is tiny, and has a drive through and a walk-up window.  We got our food and headed back to the rendezvous point to evaluate the goods.  They were pretty good.  There were no homemade corn tortillas so there were effectively no corn tortillas, but the flour was good enough.  The Carne Guisada was a deep red and tender.  The salsa was disappointing, but the Chorizo & Egg was stellar.  I don’t know if it was the drive home that allowed the ample sauce (grease) to saturate the tortilla, or just the quality of the chorizo but It was the best I’ve had in recent memory.

So I work and play downtown now for the most part, but when I run to the wilderness of the South Side I expect I’ll be paying visits to Reparo Taquito – if it hasn’t picked up and walked off.

From the Hat

Finally the weather is starting to like me.  The sky is low and grey.  A cool north breeze has finally survived the heat of Sur de Tejas enough to cross the Nueces and refresh the city.  I like it.  This time of year, I always think of the yearly bow hunting trips I used to make up into Central Texas.  Staying up late, shooting under the lights and getting up early to climb a tree and sit quietly in the cold.  Wondering who would come back from the blind with their shirt tail cut off after the call. We were disconnected from the world, no television, no phone service, all the cooking done on an open fire.  Less was more and we couldn’t ask for less.

I guess it’s a matter of choice, though.  Ike put my friend Billie in a dark, dank house for weeks.    She too was disconnected from the world.  Her comfort was candles and the sound of chainsaws – and her dog.  It was weeks after the storm when we finally convinced her to come to Papalote while they restored power to her neighborhood.  She told stories of her neighbors helping one another – clearing debris, making emergency repairs, sharing food, water, and information.  Connecting in their disconnectedness.  We had her for most of a week – birding, butterflying, walks in the woods with the dogs.  Not roughing it nearly as much as the hunting days, but still away from the world, in the embrace of friends.

I’d started this missive hoping for clever, witty, or even snarky.  I’ve ended with a nostalgic piece I’m sure will have people asking, “Where’s the beef?”  Fortunately for me, this is a taco blog and that means I had tacos this morning and have something to say about them.  Reparo was good.  It had been recommended multiple times.  I had a barbacoa and a lengua on flour.  The technicians will appreciate the lengua.  Roasted, moist and delicious, it was the better of the two tacos.  The barbacoa was the barbacoa for you if you don’t like barbacoa.  It was very lean.  Savory and tasty, but missing the fatty part of the flavor profile.   Starter barbacoa for novices.  Both were served with onions and cilantro.  The salsas made me embarrassed for Reparo.  Both offerings were thin and watery, like the juice you pour off of canned tomatoes.  Salsas aside, it’s worth a repeat visit for sure.

Salud.