2110 Laredo Street, Corpus Christi, TX • 361-885-0117

When you see cops at the taqueria it’s gonna be really good (they’re eating there) or really bad (they’re pulling criminals out of the kitchen). San Luis’s parking lot was adorned this morning with a local cruiser, and the wig-wags were off so I put my wallet in my front pocket and walked inside. You may recall San Luis as one of our early reviews, and I have long considered it one of the best in Corpus Christi. So when this month’s Corpus Christi Books and Beverages book group meeting was winding down Wednesday night and I invited a few of the abundant and abundantly single intelligent and sexy ladies of literature to have some early morning tacos I suggested San Luis, figuring it would be a sure thing. Well, as my bookie says, there’s no such thing as a sure thing.

We could hear the ringing of the phone as we sat down, and it rang nonstop, unanswered, for the duration. It was as if we were listening to a skipping record of the vuvuzela. My wife eventually walked over and took the receiver off the hook, only to have the ringing magically continue like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Not only that, but the tacos took about 40 minutes to come out. We had only sporadic coffee service throughout that time, but by the time the food came I was white knuckling.

Check out the color from the chorizo.

The tacos themselves were not bad. The chorizo and egg was about average, a little too light on the chorizo, a bit too mixed so the flavor of the egg extinguished the flavor of the chorizo, but still quite eatable. The carne guisada was also easy to eat, but just a smidgen tougher than it should be and lacking any real distinguishing spice or flavor. It wasn’t all mediochre though – the coffee was good, especially with fresh scalded milk in a little sweating stainless steel dispenser. The salsa also rocked, and the tortillas were, as they always are here, amazing. My wife’s chorizo, bean, and bacon taco on a fresh handmade corn tortilla was exquisite. But when Nico, who is a cheese blogger, got her carne g with cheese you can guess what wasn’t in her taco. Yep, and when we brought it to the attention of the server, she brought out a bowl of shredded American cheese. Sure, we are the greatest country in the world, but American cheese just sucks, for real.

There was some discussion of the staff being short-handed, but we all left feeling a bit disappointed, a bit late, and a bit full. I will be back, but with lower expectations.

Our Taco Award Winner for this week is:

Adrianne Curry

Model, playmate, fangirl, geek, freak, hardcore gamer, celebrity bride, jabba’s slavegirl, gym rat. All of these could be used to describe the multi-faceted but singularly sexy Adrianne Curry. In the outfit pictured right, who wouldn’t want to be Jabba the Hut, even knowing that he meets his end at her hands. Ms. Curry pulled herself up by her brastraps through a troubled childhood, a working class life and problems with drugs to become a world-class model, and a brainy techy geek at that. She’s an ambassador for cosplay, and hangs out (often literally) with fellow taco award winner Coco. She’s got one of the easiest-on-the-eyes twitter feeds around, and just happens to be married to Peter Brady. She does all of this while spending hours each day in the gym. The force is strong with this one.

Offer includes 2 tacos, an audience with the ‘tacoteurs,’ and a free tacotopia t-shirt. Please redeem this offer at Whetstone Graphics on a Friday morning of your choice. Offer subject to cancellation by order of the wives of the tacoteurs. Enter to win by emailing your name on the back of the January 2008 issue of Playboy to tacos@tacotopia.net.

Tacotopia this Friday takes us to the fabled San Luis Restaurant, nestled near the union of Laredo and Agnes.  Last week I told you that Garibaldi’s is the best and I don’t intend to contradict myself, but San Luis is beautiful thing.  If Garibaldi’s were a great wife – left behind in a 70’s western, San Luis is the hooker with the heart of gold.  Exotic and bold, independent and robust (at the risk of being repetitive and redundant).

The coffee arrived with an old-fashioned stainless steel creamer decanter, and it was sweating.  Not from the cream being ice cold, but from it being hot, scalded in fact, with a froth a barista could be proud of.  Every few minutes the juke box would start playing conjunto or norteño (like I could tell the difference).

Then the tacos arrived.  They barely fit on the plate.  And the tortillas (this is where it gets nsfw) were like a night with Salma Hayek, without performance anxiety (believe me – Salma demands high performance) with smooth, firm flesh stretching over a voluptuous form.  I’ve eaten tortillas out of the back of a tortilla factory in central Mexico and I’ve never had a tortilla this good.

The chorizo was very good, but not spectacular.  The carne guisada was quite tasty, with a noticeable taste of black pepper.  What they had going for them is how fresh they were.

I’m in a committed relationship with Garibaldi, but if my phone starts blowing up with the tune from “secret lovers” I’ll still be sneaking across the tracks (or crosstown freeway in this case) to get a little bit of that San Luis action.

This just in from our bizarro taco field reporter, Kevin N.

Due to a communication breakdown, I missed out on a threesome with Ian and San Luis Mexican Restaurant.  Missing the main event did not keep me from sampling the wares at San Luis.  I had been many times and felt a bit of anxiety at having suggested the restaurant with reports of high marks and some gentle elbowing about their supremacy over Garibaldi’s.  I was not disappointed.  From the moment the plate hit the table, I knew I was in for a treat.

I had a nopalitos and eggs taco and a chicharron al la Mexicana.  Wow!  Tbe nopalitos were fresh and delightful.  They could have been fresh-picked from the parking lot.  Cooked in a bright spicy orange sauce and mixed with a generous portion of eggs, it was enough before I got to the chicharrones – which by-the-way – were delicioso.  They were perfectly bite-sized and dense, cooked just enough to soften the outside.  Their luscious aroma reached my nose as the plate was placed before me.  This smell, mixed with that of the perfect corn tortillas barely containing the tacos’ ingredients was worth the wait.  Did I mention perfect corn tortillas.  If this place does not have the best tortillas in town, then I can’t wait to have those that best them.

The building was clean, but not sterile.  The wait staff was courteous and kept the hot coffee coming.  Two televisions had the noticias going and were interrupted briefly by the sound of conjunto.  My table boasted the only English in the place.

This was a great breakfast.  If I had to say anything remotely resembling negativity, I might wish for a bit more variety on the taco menu.  But Hey, nobody’s perfect.