What’s my idea of a good time? Getting on a bus with a bunch of people I don’t know and eating tacos all day long. Hubbard and I came prepared, as always, a cooler full of Stella Artois and another with a sealed container of margaritas. OK. The beer wasn’t Mexican. But, I like Stella. The event was organinzed by one of Dallas’ most prolific food writers, Steven Doyle, with the help of Jose Ralat Maldonado, Airon Peralta and Andrew Chalk. The bus was packed tight with foodies of all types. Our motley crew…
That’s me in the red sweater, Hubbard at my side. I can’t even name all the people on the bus… at the risk of forgetting anyone, I’m not going to try to list the participants. If anyone on the bus reads this, please sound off.
We started at El Paisanita at 4447 Maple.
I had to wonder what the owners of these places thought when we pulled up. Nice bit of business, but maybe a tad overwhelming, don’t you think?
And this isn’t even half of us… anyway, here we tried the lengua and the pastor.
This is an area of town where Hubbard finds himself often. He said he’ll definitely be stopping in again. The tortillas had a nice little crunchy edge and I liked the little grilled onion they served on the side. The pastor was the winner here, though the lingua was good.
On to El Atoron at 2023 Henderson. Here we were introduced to suadero…
Our bus-mate Jose was not impressed by this suadero. His major complaint: Suadero is not pink. His advice: Walk away. And he did. The taco didn’t taste bad, but remains a mystery meat. Suadero is supposed to be part of the beef brisket. That doesn’t look like brisket to me. The chorizo taco was good.
On to Tacos El Guero at 4500 Bryan. Honestly, this is a place that I never would have stopped to visit on my own. Turns out to be one of our very favorites. This is where we learned what suadero is supposed be like.
Check it out… on the right… the real suadero. This was my favorite taco of the trip. Tender with crispy little edges. The meat was fantastic. The chorizo was good, but Hubbard should have grabbed the cabeza here. It turned out to be a favorite on the bus.
Then we hit the open road. Time to crank up the tunes and drink beer without cracking yourself in the teeth with the bottle. It was a beautiful day and we were headed to more tacos. 3404 W Illinois is the home of El Tizoncito. I was blown away by this place. It gets my award for most surprising. As we walked up, I was skeptical. This place was cute. Nice, even. We could all fit inside and sit down at the same time. Didn’t seem right. We bellied up to the bar and they started getting after it.
We went for pastor again. I just love those big wheels of meat, whatever they’re called. The condiment tray was lovely. I should have taken a picture. Little dishes of cilantro, onion, pinapple, salsas, etc. You can barely see the edge of it in the taco picture. This was some kind of good taco.
One tamarind Margarita later and a few bites of this cheesy crisp thing and I was ready to roll. My one regret is that this place is so far from my home. I’ve got to make it back to try the queso with chorizo taco, spread across three tortillas. My life won’t quite be complete until I’ve eaten that.
The view from Fuel City at 801 S Riverfront, the gas station/car wash/cattle ranch/truck stop/taco joint. We’ve been here many times, so I didn’t take a bunch of pictures and didn’t even eat a taco. I had the elotes, a cup of corn with crema, butter, salsa and queso fresco.
While we stood in the parking lot I thought that I won’t be coming back to Fuel City for a while. We found so many more insteresting and comfortable places to eat today. Sure, Fuel City has those Longhorn steers. That’s hard to top. But, eating cow is what we’re about today. So, we we’re off to our final destination… Trompo Taco.
OK. I guess it’s really called Bachman Tacos and Grill. I’m not sure what the address is. It’s across from Bachman Lake on NW Hwy. Now, that’s a big hunk of meat.
And a pretty nice taco, too. The radish was a nice addition. The salsa was good, too. I’d eat this again, in a heartbeat. Just be sure to go to the cashier on the right hand side of the storefront to order, just like you’re paying for gas. In fact, I’m sure you could do both. Then hand your little ticket to the dude with the big knife.
We waddled back to the bus. Not thinking of dinner. Not thinking of eating again. Ever. I was thinking, in fact, of white wine. Laying down and talking about our food adventure. Wishing that I hadn’t skipped that chorizo and queso thing at El Tizoncito.
After our bus-mate Jim whacked the top off a bottle of Champagne with a saber that’s exactly what we did!