Moody’s Tacos – After the flood

Posted 2010/01/15 By Taco Show Host
Last night I woke up to the sound of thunder.  My two chihuahuas were in their kennel downstairs and I knew they’d be scared shitless (literally).  I wandered down the stairs to check on them, knowing the problems we have with flooding in Portland, Texas.  When the rain comes, and it comes in torrents, the water will inch up over the curb and then start making it’s way toward the house.  I comes in the laundry room first, and one side of the garage, then the sewer floods and it starts running out of the downstairs toilet. It sounded like it was coming down pretty heavy so I wanted to make sure the dogs weren’t standing on their hind legs half submerged.  Before I could get there I saw a little water near the front door.  I knew it had to be worse in the garage, so I ran out there and it was about an inch deep.  I ran around in a panic trying to get anything of value up off the floor.  Then I got back to the same spot and it was 4 inches deep.  I could feel water dripping on me from overhead.  I looked up and the drywall was in tatters, and water was running down all over.  In what seemed like seconds most of the drywall on the walls was gone, and little pieces of paper tape were swinging from the framing.  Then I woke up.
I don’t know if it was my subconscious telling me how terrible things must be in Haiti, but it did make me thank the powers that be that I’m here and not there, and I will be texting haiti to 90999 today to give $10.00 to the Red Cross’ effort.  It’s not much but it has raised a combined $5 million so far. It’s a damned sight better than proclaiming haiti to be a damned site.
What does any of this have to do with tacos?  Not a lot, uh, limonada, but it did precede the taco run, and it was chilling. Where did we go, you ask… getting more and more impatient as I ramble non sequiturs? The object of our combined attention this morning was Moody’s tacos on Weber and Saratoga, at the suggestion of my lovely wife who is a champion of the other side of their business, Moody’s Meats.  I hadn’t been there, didn’t know what to expect, and once I finished piloting my wife’s Altima through the river that was Weber, in the rain, in the dark, I pulled into the lot where the Hat was waiting in his truck. My wife and kid were only a few minutes behind.
Moody’s is in a strip center, and while it does have tables it doesn’t have table service – you order at the counter, but they bring your food out to you.  The guy behind the counter seemed sharp but occupied.  The TV was playing an endless loop of infomercials for cheap gadgets, but the coffee was good.  Then we got the tacos.  We were warned ahead of time that there was a junior taco and regular taco – and that the Junior taco was the size of most regular tacos.  Not being one to pass up an opportunity for gluttony I ordered one of each. My chorizo & egg, the regular, was the size of a rolling pin.  The tortilla was homemade but not super fresh, better than off the shelf but not quite on par – but the logistics of producing tortillas this size, much less ones sturdy enough to contain this amount of filling without a structural breach have to be taken into consideration, and this tortilla held up.  I had to go to work with a fork at first just whittle it down to a size where I could hoist it up – and even then I had to alternate left and right while eating, it was that big.
The salsa was good – not outstanding but good.  It was fresh, smooth, red & hot.  It wasn’t watery like a lot of places (or the street outside).  Then I went to work on the carne guisada.  I had high expectations, what with Moody’s being affiliated with a purveyor of meats, and I wasn’t disappointed.  It was a light brown guisada with hugh cubes of beef.  It was perfectly tender, and had something you don’t get in most carne guisada that’s hard to put a finger on.  The best way I can think to describe it is to say that most carne g gets cooked so long that the flavor is diminished to the benefit of the meat’s tenderness.  This stuff had both, in spades. If I could take any issue with it, it’d be the existence of tiny lumps of flour in the gravy – but they couldn’t be tasted, only seen.
We all sat and talked for a while longer, perhaps to put off the inevitable onset of the responsibilities of work, and then feeling a bit more cheerful, and a lot more full, we made our way into the bleak morning – already making plans for cocktails this afternoon.

Moodys-Front

6410 Weber Road, Corpus Christi, TX 78413-4007 • (361) 814-8847
Carne G: Regular – $3.19, Junior – $1.90
Chorizo & Egg: (on special) Regular – $2.15, Junior – $1.29

Last night I woke up to the sound of thunder.  My two chihuahuas were in their kennel downstairs and I knew they’d be scared shitless (literally).  I wandered down the stairs to check on them, knowing the problems we have with flooding in Portland, Texas.  When the rain comes, and it comes in torrents, the water will inch up over the curb and then start making it’s way toward the house.  I comes in the laundry room first, and one side of the garage, then the sewer floods and it starts running out of the downstairs toilet. It sounded like it was coming down pretty heavy so I wanted to make sure the dogs weren’t standing on their hind legs half submerged.  Before I could get there I saw a little water near the front door.  I knew it had to be worse in the garage, so I ran out there and it was about an inch deep.  I ran around in a panic trying to get anything of value up off the floor.  Then I got back to the same spot and it was 4 inches deep.  I could feel water dripping on me from overhead.  I looked up and the drywall was in tatters, and water was running down all over.  In what seemed like seconds most of the drywall on the walls was gone, and little pieces of paper tape were swinging from the framing.  Then I woke up.

MattTacoI don’t know if it was my subconscious telling me how terrible things must be in Haiti, but it did make me thank the powers that be that I’m here and not there, and I will be texting haiti to 90999 today to give $10.00 to the Red Cross’ effort.  It’s not much but it has raised a combined $5 million so far. It’s a damned sight better than proclaiming Haiti to be a damned site.

What does any of this have to do with tacos?  Not a lot, uh, limonada, but it did precede the taco run, and it was chilling. Where did we go, you ask… getting more and more impatient as I ramble non sequiturs? The object of our combined attention this morning was Moody’s tacos on Weber and Saratoga, at the suggestion of my lovely wife who is a champion of the other side of their business, Moody’s Meats.  I hadn’t been there, didn’t know what to expect, and once I finished piloting my wife’s Altima through the river that was Weber, in the rain, in the dark, I pulled into the lot where the Hat was waiting in his truck. My wife and kid were only a few minutes behind.

Moody’s is in a strip center, and while it does have tables it doesn’t have table service – you order at the counter, but they bring your food out to you.  The guy behind the counter seemed sharp but occupied.  The TV was playing an endless loop of infomercials for cheap gadgets, but the coffee was good.  Then we got the tacos.  We were warned ahead of time that there was a junior taco and regular taco – and that the Junior taco was the size of most regular tacos.  Not being one to pass up an opportunity for gluttony I ordered one of each. My chorizo & egg, the regular, was the size of a rolling pin.  The tortilla was homemade but not super fresh, better than off the shelf but not quite on par – but the logistics of producing tortillas this size, much less ones sturdy enough to contain this amount of filling without a structural breach have to be taken into consideration, and this tortilla held up.  I had to go to work with a fork at first just whittle it down to a size where I could hoist it up – and even then I had to alternate left and right while eating, it was that big.

The salsa was good – not outstanding but good.  It was fresh, smooth, red & hot.  It wasn’t watery like a lot of places (or the street outside).  Then I went to work on the carne guisada.  I had high expectations, what with Moody’s being affiliated with a purveyor of meats, and I wasn’t disappointed.  It was a light brown guisada with hugh cubes of beef.  It was perfectly tender, and had something you don’t get in most carne guisada that’s hard to put a finger on.  The best way I can think to describe it is to say that most carne g gets cooked so long that the flavor is diminished to the benefit of the meat’s tenderness.  This stuff had both, in spades. If I could take any issue with it, it’d be the existence of tiny lumps of flour in the gravy – but they couldn’t be tasted, only seen.

We all sat and talked for a while longer, perhaps to put off the inevitable onset of the responsibilities of work, and then feeling a bit more cheerful, and a lot more full, we made our way into the bleak morning – already making plans for cocktails this afternoon.

From the Hat

I walked out of the house this morning into the dark wetness that is Caladan.  Standing water, cautious drivers, and over-cautious drivers made the drive down Crosstown and Saratoga quite an adventure.  I don’t know how anyone else feels, but the Sparkling Soggy by the Sea has been a pretty dismal, water-logged place.  Not just the city, but up country too.  I need to get to our place in Papalote to see how it fared in the freeze last week, but it’s been a bog for six weeks now.  If I thought bending a knee and chanting, “Ia, Ia! Shub Niggurath” would end the monsoon and dry things out; I’d give it a try.

Even though Saratoga was a slick, black ribbon bounded on both sides by lakes it was still an effort in competitive driving.  I think you must get extra points when it rains.  I’ve given up most of my aggressive road skills.  I chalked it up to age, but my Grandmother drives a Dodge Charger and the white-hair that blew past me this morning in the rain has me having to re-evaluate my meek driving.

Moodys-TrashcanWe were meeting at Moody’s Tacos.  I’ve eaten Moody’s tacos for many years.   At every location but this one, I think.  The menu’s listing of two sizes of taco was not familiar.  If it wasn’t always that way, then the change was a good idea.  Moody’s tacos are BIG.  The first time I ate at a Moody’s I had no Idea so I ordered two.  When they brought them out I realized that there was no way I would finish them.  So today, given the choice, I ordered two small – a brisket, and the Trash Can.  I began to worry when both Ian and M. ordered at least one jumbo each.  I was a teenager again dreading that particular locker room envy and intimidation.  But I girded my loins and hoped for the best.  I was rewarded.  The junior-sized Trash Can taco was at least as substantial as the Jumbos around the table.  I think I noticed some envy directed my way for a change.

The trash can is a mélange of potato, egg, cheese, refried beans, sausage, chorizo and a whole slice of bacon wrapped in a flour tort.  It was big and every element was good.  It was layered so you could take a bite of whatever individual element you wanted, or use the tortilla as a palate to mix your own specially colored bite.  Delicious.  The brisket taco was good.  Not great.  I’m all about some fat in my brisket, but I had to remove some.  I caught a bit of flack about if from the youngest at the table – eat on while you can young man.  It was hard to tell much else about the brisket.  It was overpowered by a fairly routine barbeque sauce.  Sliced dills and fresh onions completed the package.  I had one tort that was cold and not entirely pleasant, but the other was warm and tasty – a bit toothier than I’d like, but passable.  It’s possible that I just drew the short stick regarding the cold tarpolean and the fatty brisket.  I really liked the salsa.  It was just hot enough and very flavorful.  An enjoyable experience.

Salud

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Categories: Breakfast Taco Friday
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