Episode 5: Tacos de Calle

Warning: These tacos are not from the streets.

"Tacos de Calle" translates to Street Tacos, so I was already skeptical as I sat down to eat at Jalisco, a little restaurant in Henderson, on Sunset and Eastern. I was already in a mood when I walked in. The place used to be called SuperMex, and while the name didn't inspire high hopes of authentic Mexican food, if you wanted a giant burrito smothered in cheesy sauce, that was the place to go. I hadn't been in since it closed and opened under its new name.

It was 5:30 in the evening and the happy hour specials were on. Among them, $2 "Tacos de Calle", my choice of meat.

With an air of resigned skepticism, I ordered two: one carnitas and the other carne asada. If they were horrible, I was out $4, and I could feel vindicated in my prejudicial disdain of the place.

I slipped a dollar into a machine, and keyed up a single hand of blackjack, which I won, let ride, and subsequently won again. I played four more hands, sipping and hating a Negro Modelo. The sub-par beer helped me slip further into my this place sucks attitude, but the continuous winning hands of blackjack weren't making it easy.

The food came when I'd played myself up to ten dollars, and against my will, I felt a ray of sunshiny hope: these were real refried beans, not the sorry excuse from a can. Not caring what the people next to me at the bar were thinking, I leaned over my plate and inhaled deep. Immediately, my mouth watered--it didn't just water. There were pinpricks in my tongue and my jaw ached as saliva flooded my mouth. The smells of pork fat and marinated, salty meat filled my nose.

I looked up at the bartender and said, "Oh my gosh." The smug bastard just looked at me and nodded. He had seen my kind before.

The portions were small, but such is the nature of street tacos. I didn't mind. The tortillas weren't hand made, but they were high quality. Besides, the meat is where the points are really earned--and Jalisco did earn some major points.

The pork (carnitas) were part crisp and part chewy, almost melting, and covered in a homemade green salsa that I could have done without. The salsa was tasty, but the carnitas didn't need any help beyond the diced raw onion resting on it. The pork was savory and salty and had that fresh, hot meat flavor that comes from quality ingredients.

The beef (carne asada) had a little more going on. I caught hints of smoke and some an undertone of sweet from whatever the restaurant used as marinade; a cross between typical asada and al pastor marinade, but that was fine with me. Real street food should have its own flair, something that made it unique. The pico on the carne asada was a little more welcome as well, the tomatoes blending with the mysterious spices of the meat in a way the green sauce didn't.

I judged Jalisco harshly and unfairly before I went in, and for that, I'm sorry. The service staff was personable, the prices were amazing and most importantly, the food exceeded my expectations. You with this one, Jalisco.