And it seems I’m not alone in my seething hostility, in fact the whole world is up to their eyeballs in a seemingly endless flood of insufferable malarky. Just look at Epic Beard Man who ‘lost his composure’ all over the face of a guy whose mother should have taught him to respect his elders, or at least not to invite some mentally unstable veteran who is a good 10 inches and 50 pounds better’n’you, and that being 67 doesn’t mean he’s not gonna make good on his promise not return fire. And if you think it has to do with racial tension, you’ll see Tom ‘Vietnam’ Bruso fail to exercise common sense in this other video where he refuses to cooperate with some caucasoid police at a ball game.  I think he’s unhinged, but it’s understandable in this world of ingrates and schmucks (tacotopia readership, of course, excluded – you guys rock!)

This Can't End Well

There is one thing that soothes my delicate sensibilities when I’m ready to throw myself under the D-Town Tram like what almost happened to the whacked-out broad who gave my kid an impromtu anatomy lesson on Fat Tuesday before pelting empty cars with candy and beads before stumbling off and somehow avoiding injury, and that’s breakfast tacos.

This morning brought us to El Sol de Mexico, which occupies the property that used to house Elva’s before it shut its doors.  Casey Lain at House of Rock told me about this place when I was dropping off some posters for his upcoming songwriter series which will feature Joe Ely (Feb 27th), Monte Montgomery (March 11th) and Michael O’Connor on April Fool’s Day.

As you can see the interior is completely redesigned, and the soothing earth tone decor and the smells coming from the kitchen washed over me, extinguishing my burning hostility.  The waitress brought us coffee, and I think there must have been some kind of issue with the coffee maker because the steam from it must be what shrunk her clothes.  She was pretty, and very friendly, and it’s hard to be angry when there’s a pretty lady pouring you coffee (that’s why I’m never angry at my house).

Taqueria Jalisco has used a classic technique to defend it’s place in the Corpus Christi food chain. Boasting ten Corpus locations on their website it’s not easy to find a spot in the metro area that isn’t 4 or 5 blocks from a Jalisco, and that’s just in Corpus. Jalisco’s reach must extend further as one of their CC locations is #19. We ended up at the first, Jalisco #1, this morning.  Dug in on Port, on the west side of Crosstown Fwy, Taqueria Jalisco sits between Carniceria Jalisco and the the Jalisco Bakery on both adjacent blocks like a cult compound. This is a neighborhood where you’d do well to live in a compound, though not nearly as dicey as some – and it’s caddycorner to the lot where the chicken trailer parks on weekends.  Opinion is mixed on the quality of Jalisco’s food. Some locals will tell you to avoid them, but they are always busy with full parking lots and drive-throughs. An inquiry directed toward the lady at the counter determined that this location had been open for around 25 years. That’s no small papas. They must be doing something right in order to survive that long.

the 'ladybug' presentation

The Hat and myself walked in the front door, half expecting to find a butcher greeting us with a blood-soaked apron and a cleaver. No such luck, it was nice, tidy, and clean. The waitress was on point, and we couldn’t go 2 minutes without her offering to refill our coffee cups. The tacos quickly arrived in the ‘ladybug’ formation. The chorizo & egg was not bad: dry but not too dry, without a strong flavor of chorizo but still quite serviceable.  The carne guisada was about the same – not bad, not great.  The flour tortillas weren’t standout but they came hot, fresh and soft.  The salsa was powerfully hot – and not at the expense of flavor.

The most impressive thing about the place is the signage, and not even the signage on the taqueria itself, but on the carniceria.  It is a work of art, flawless in its execution.  You see tags around this part of town but I could see no evidence that anyone had tagged that wall. Taggers are not entirely without respect for talent.

While we try to quantify the tangible qualities that make a place good or bad there’s so much that we can’t put our fingers on. Jalisco #1 is not excellent but well worth the trip. In any other town you’d be hard pressed to find anything better. It just so happens we aren’t in any other town, we’re in Corpus Christi.  The Great Corpus Christi, a little town I like to call Tacotopia – Breakfast Taco Capital of the World.  You might think different but if your tacos try to upset the natural order of things, they might become part of the circle of life.

From the Hat

We found ourselves at Jalisco because the taco joint we had selected was closed.  Gallus gallus hadn’t even announced the day and we were standing in an empty parking lot on Ayers.  I wonder what the street life thought at the sight of two Nerds brandishing iPhones, bringing technology to bear to locate a suitable substitute taqueria…”prey” probably.

Prey…Back in the day, I used to be quite the hunter.  Bow, black powder, rifle or shotgun – it was a great way to spend some time, spend some money, visit with friends, and perhaps bring home something for the freezer.  But I haven’t been hunting in more than five years… dove hunting a few times, but no deer.  So I decided that I’d go out and try to shoot a deer this year.  My uncle Bob sets up blinds on our place in Papalote and has taken a few pigs.  He’s seen some deer, but nothing he thought about shooting.  He hunts often so is looking for big impressive deer, or those that need to be culled.  Me, I prefer the does.  I’ll shoot a buck or an atypical of course, but does are so tasty and I’m in it for breakfast.

So I got up early and went and sat on a blind.  I’d never been up in one of these tripod blinds and I must say that I felt a bit uneasy hoisting my butt 12-15 ft in the air and sitting on a swiveling chair – a swiveling chair filled with water my butt would tell you.  Lesson one, take towel.  From my gantry view, I could see and hear the brush wake up.   I love the sounds of the dawn chorus.  Foghorn Leghorn in the distance, coyotes yapping, the occasional mystery sound, and wild birds of all kind singing as if the coming sun had just thawed their syrinxes.  It was steamy when I got there and there were mosquitoes as big as bumblebees flying around.  That didn’t last long, though.  A front blew in and it got cold, and my wet butt got cold.  I hung a couple of hours and watched a feral hog and a doe, but didn’t get a shot at either.

I went back out that afternoon and put in another several shivering hours and was rewarded with a nice doe.  The rifle was true and the deer dropped where she stood.  I always feel kind of sad when I kill a deer.  They’re really quite beautiful up close and she hadn’t done a thing to me.  But I’m looking forward to backstrap and eggs for breakfast, not this morning, though.  This morning it’s tacos.

We hadn’t reviewed one of the ubiquitous Jaliscos before and figured why not?  You can’t turn around in Corpus without running into a taqueria, and there’s a good chance it’s a Jalisco.  We chose the one on Port because it was fairly close.  They had tripas on the menu, and chicharrones, so I had one of each.  The tripas taco on a corn tarp was not stellar – but not cellar either.  The tripas were ice cube-sized Borg ships cut from a frozen block then fried in very hot grease.  Most were so fried that they had very little taste, but there were a few in the center of the cubes that were still too soft.   The corn tarp was of higher quality than those al paquete, but did not hold up to being manhandled.  Not my favorite execution of the dish, but I managed to assimilate it.  The chicharron con huevos taco was better, on a better (flour) tortilla.  The chicharrones were toothy and there were plenty of them mixed with the eggs.  The vegetables making it a la Mexicana were fresh.  Both tacos had ample filling.  The red salsa was screaming hot.  I think jalapenos.  Ian may differ.  It was good though.  The service was excellent and my Bunn-driven coffee never dropped more than a half an inch below the brim.  Tomorrow, venison and eggs.

Salud