tacotopia

After last week’s debacle we were looking forward to something closer to what got us started.  Plain jane, familiar, comfortable.  As the team of two assembled in front of the entrance of the morning’s eatery we wordlessly communicated our shared  yearning for the upcoming evaluation: “I hope this doesn’t suck.”

It didn’t.  They claim to produce the “best salsa in town” and it was the best thing about the fare.  It is blended so thoroughly that there are no seeds or visual hints of what ingredients it might contain.  It’s color is that of Autumn leaves, orange as the paint on the gorgeous sign hung above the door.  The tacos were big, like a horn-of-plenty set out for we weary pilgrims after our long voyage through the treacherous seas of gastrointestinal persecution. In this story, though, we aren’t the ones giving smallpox blankets to the indians.  So hot was the salsa that it slapped us out of Fall reverie and reminded us that in a few scant minutes we’d be trudging beneath the furnace of the hot Texas sun.

The carne guisada was nice looking, with the color of the sauce also orange so that when combined with the salsa one can’t tell them apart.  On biting into it the flavor was very familiar, and after a while it came to me.  I can’t say this with certainty, but it tastes very much like the HEB frozen Carne Guisada.  The beef was very chewy – just like the HEB brand, and the sauce has the same look and taste.  The only reason I’d know that flavor is because I have bought it many times, and it’s not bad for frozen carne g, but I’d expect more from a Corpus Christi Taqueria. The chorizo & egg wasn’t bad, wasn’t great.  Nothing unusual about it.  Basic.  The tortillas were big – as were the tacos – and weren’t bad, but again – not great.  If they’re homemade they don’t taste it.

I have to admit, I’m still recovering from last weeks corporate romp. As I drove across town in the darkness, I wondered about the fare. I’d never been to Nano’s, but had heard about it for years. It has a significant following and was recommended many times for consideration for a Tacotopia visit. It was dark when I got there and white light blared out the door. The smell of bacon permeated the air. My hopes soared.

The place was cold, like a Blue Norther. I ordered two tacos, a machacado and egg, and a chicharrones and eggs. We barely sat down and the tacos were on the table. They were bountiful. Giant stuffed beauties. The chicharron and egg ranked first. The chicharrones were the small, dense, extremely crunchy ones that originate in Mexico. They were crushed into pieces that brought to mind crushed candy in peppermint ice cream. Except this candy had a rich fried pig flavor mingled with caramelized onions. If not for the mid-grade tortilla, it would have been great. The machacado was also good. The carne seco was very flavorful, maybe a bit jerky-like, but but hey, that’s what it is.

Both tacos were improved by the addition of the burnt-orange salsa. Served in a squeeze bottle, It could have passed for French dressing. The coffee was good, as is usually the case for that Bunn coffee maker. You know the type. The coffee has a rich cafe taste, but is missing the high notes you might get from a press.

In the end, Nano’s didn’t suck. It wasn’t at the top of the scale, but it was a pleasantly cool breeze in our otherwise brutally-hot existence. Salud.

We are left to bear the burden of the cruelest season to the South, but we are thankful for the food we are given.

An employee of the Stripes/Laredo Taco Company scurrying back into the safety of the bunker after recording our license plate

Tacotopia – a populist dream of a world with abundant and delicious food available to rich and poor alike.  Alas, it is just that – a dream. And when a dream, or an inspiration, or a great idea starts to take hold the juggernaut of industrial production and insipid, coercive advertising turn the dream into a nightmare.  As true believers we, the tacoteurs, must act if we want to keep the beast at bay. Our taco freedom fighters staged a massive strategic attack on the face of the corporate taco dealers and lived to tell.  We accompany each review with a Haiku, so that we might gain some spiritual insight from our sacrifice.

Stripes/Laredo Taco Company

2002 Morgan Ave

Corpus Christi

(361) 881-8780

This was our first stop, and they handled us tidily.  Kicked out without a taco after photographing their neglected coffee station, we didn’t escape without having our license plate recorded so that they might radio back to the KGB and put us on a watch list.

Photog offends clerk.

Thanks no arrest resulted.

They took license plate.

McDonalds

2021 Morgan Ave

Corpus Christi, TX 78405-1541

(361)882-1411

After escaping across Morgan we took refuge in the McDonalds, recently reconstructed in the ruins of – that’s right – another McDonalds.  Kevin & I licked our wounds and were lulled into a false sense of security by the clean accommodations, pleasant staff, bountiful condiments and diffused lighting.  We split a McSkillet. Not bad for the food of the oppressor.  It was hefty (like Americans like it) with good fried potatoes, eggs, green & red pepper, and sausage.  The coffee was average.

Service with a smile.

Tacoesque fare not too bad.

Bright, clean, good coffee.

Bill Miller

1240 S Port Ave

Corpus Christi, TX 78405-2308

(361) 884-3777

Almost as good as the real thing.  The aroma of woodsmoke hit us on the way in.  The joint was clean and the staff friendly.  Alone in the giant dining area, we had the carne guisada with cheese.  It was excellent, not quite authentic tasting but still good.   The beef was peppery if tough.  And could it be?  Real tortillas?  Further investigation showed them to be pressed and cooked on the premises.

Q stand serves taco.

Guisada good, salsa fresh

Likely to return.

Burger King

3941 Crosstown Expy

Corpus Christi, TX 78416

(361)854-1700

Rarely has the concept of corporate offenses ever been so singularly personified as in Burger King serving a breakfast taco though their legal team helped them avoid calling it that (it’s a Cheesy Bacon Wrap).  Cheesy Bacon Crap.  Do not eat this if you’re going to be out of range of a bathroom in which you can spend some time.  It left me with one question: how can you screw up bacon?

Cheesy, salty blob

Warning to man for ages

Illness could follow.

Jack in the Box

3155 S Padre Island Dr

Corpus Christi, TX 78415-1815

(361)225-3746

I don’t know if the normally feuding corporations colluded to thwart our anti-corporate campaign, but we were thwarted.  Upon entering the drive through we were told there was only one egg left, and they wouldn’t make a taco with it, only a croissant. Curses. No egg for you.

For lack of an egg

Our taco lust was ended

Egg sandwich instead?

Taco Bueno

5630 Saratoga Blvd

Corpus Christi, TX 78414-4101

(361)993-0622

Again we were defeated by the robber-barons.  Taco Bueno didn’t even have breakfast tacos, in spite of assurance from our source that they did.  Are we being infiltrated?

No Taco Bueno,

Closed doors saved us some torture.

Best taco so far.

Sonic

6557 South Staples

Corpus Christi, TX

(361)991-9790

Expecting nothing less than pathetic we were impressed at what Sonic did with their paltry components.  The tortillas were bad but not awful, the taco was big and tasty.  The sausage and the jalapeños were good.

Tater tot taco?

Huge wrap, had to gird our loins.

Best coffee of day.

Taco Cabana

5425 S Padre Island Dr # 138

Corpus Christi, TX 78411-5327

(361)994-0246

I’d expected to like this one but it wasn’t great.  They did give us 3 different kinds of salsa though, and they did have chorizo – unique in our campaign.

Big Chain, small taco,

Only chorizo on trip.

Several salsas.

Whataburger

2402 S Padre Island Dr

Corpus Christi, TX 78415-1802

(361)855-0010

We got the Sausage Egg & Cheese Taquito.  We knew it would be bad but we didn’t know how bad.  How can that take the same fixin’s used in their excellent B.O.B. and make them taste so bad?  At least it’s not as awful as Burger King.

Hurray for home town?

Dry, yucky, one of day’s worst.

They left bad tacos.

Stripes/Laredo Taco Company

1050 Nueces Bay Blvd

Corpus Christi, TX

(361)884-1581

If we don’t give everyone fair treatment, aren’t we as bad as they are?  In the spirit of truth and fairness we made another run at the local warlord, and were rewarded.  The barbacoa was quite good, the pico fresh, the salsa hot, the cilantro… well… cilantro-y.  The tortillas are made right there behind the counter, the best of the bunch.  Enough to redeem them from the earlier insult?  Only time will tell.

In line of Nomex.

Hand-made tort and fresh pico.

Barbacoa good.

Transparency is key.  Light is the best disinfectant (thought bleach works pretty well). If we shout the truth loudly enough maybe someone will hear.  That truth is that corporate chain tacos are more expensive and less delicious than the local fare.  As I write this I struggle against the pain to type.  It may be the last thing I write.  If you learn anything from my struggles, it is this:  damn, I forgot.  Oh yeah, don’t eat 7 tacos in one morning, especially if they’re bad.

El Palenque Mexican Restaurant

3429 Leopard St

Corpus Christi, TX 78408

(361) 887-9105

Chorizo & Egg: $1.45

Carne Guisada: $1.90

Large Coffee: $.95

The grind of the city can push a man too far.  The litany of insults to a man’s dignity and the slow and steady destructions of his dreams can drive him to a place the innocent would fear.  This is a place that serves up whatever that man wants.  In our part of the world he’s got his options; the border is filled with little towns where you show up with money and leave with a need to see an American doctor, if not a lawyer.  And when he finds himself walking the dark and dirty sidewalks to the South they might lead him to a place where people bet on the very lives of two cocks engaged in a battle to the death – the arena known as EL PALENQUE.

If you’ve been down Leopard you know what to expect. The steady stream of working girls and derelicts wearing a path from the Metro Ministries to the shelter and the bus stop. El Palenque has been around since 1991 and occupies a building that used to be a strip club.  As we sat at our table we were flanked by cops and thugs alike. The attraction of this kind of diversion makes no distinction between right and wrong, between rich and poor.  It is unadulterated lust for blood.

We are no different, Kevin & I, as we lay our money down for the spectacle.  I bet on the favorite to win, a half breed plate with a Carne Guisada taco and a Chorizo & Egg.  Kevin had a hot tip about a fix – the Picadillo taco and his friend Dale, the taco.  My Coffee was gigantic, as were most of the hulking patrons.  There was no red salsa, only a delicious green – as if to say ‘red salsa? we don’t need no stinking red salsa!’ We dared not eat the corn tortillas, as we were told by the merciful waitress they were not homemade as she dispensed salsa into what seemed like 500 tiny cups with speed that would put a machine to shame. She was sharp, that one.  She knew everyone’s name and had their regular orders at their tables almost before they could sit down.  She looked like she’d faced some trouble in her life but was still trim and cheerful, with a proud beauty covering the abuses of time. The banter with the english speaking customers was salty. The only Spanish I heard was from the radio, and almost none of the customers were Mexican.

The Chorizo & Egg was very light on the Chorizo.  The Carne Guisada redeemed the breakfast, with huge chunks of beef and a soupy sauce all resting on thick fresh flour tortillas.

On the way back home Kevin tried to piece together the confusing fragments of memory from the night before:

Yes Ian, the fix was in.  My feathers ruffled upon entering the pit.  Armed only with cockspurs of the trade, a fork, I raged, skwalking in anticipation of the unknown.  I set upon my duel, taco a mano, with the taco known as Dale.

Dale, a long time patron who still frequents the Palenque, ordered a bean, egg, cheese and two slices of bacon so regularly that they named it after him.  As tacos go, it was good.  The beans were the perfect texture, but missing any snap.  The bacon was well done, but not too crispy.  Not the most worthy opponent, but I was happy for the lightweight first round…and it was a good thing, for the next battle surely tested my mettle.

The picadillo at first taste was a bit bland, but with a strategic application of sal, the flavors brightened and I knew I was in a run for my money.  I could see the other patrons glancing askance to see how I would fare in battle.  I’m not sure, but I think I saw Ian covering a bet with the waitress.  Surely he was betting on my success… surely.  The taco was really good.  A mix of ground beef, potatoes, and in this case chunks of bright orange carrots made the hash both tasty and visually appealing.  In the end it didn’t stand a chance either, and its broken body was the proof of my victory.

The tortillas were very good.  I disregarded my custom of one flour and one corn at the recommendation of the owner.  They didn’t serve a hand-made corn tarpaulin.  Too bad, but I won’t fault them as the flour torts were very good.  The salsa was green, and served in a squeeze bottle.  It had a good fresh taste of chili with plenty of heat, very good I would say.  The coffee was served in a cup that was large enough to have sequestered a small gamecock–and it was good.

In the end, I walked out victorious but not unscathed.  It’s likely I will wear the parting shot of salsa from the picadillo on my shirt for the duration of the day.  Salud.

We got away with little more than the shirts on our backs, and worn out stomachs as we made our way home to beg our wives to take us in and forgive us – one more time.