The Arizona Taco Festival
July 22nd, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | one response
You’re probably in Texas, so you’ve seen chili cook-offs and barbeque showdowns everywhere.
That’s right, Mr. Spell Checker. Barbeque with a Q in it.
Some good folks in Arizona are putting together the first annual Arizona Taco Festival, and challenging chefs and other culinary badasses across the nation to compete in one or all of four taco categories- beef, pork, chicken, and fish.
Why didn’t I think of this?
The event will eventually be a multi-city competition. The first event will be thrown in Scottsdale on Saturday, October 9, 2010. The grand prize is $7500.00.
The competition will also include a Sidecart Category that awards prizes for Best Salsa, Best Guacamole, Best Anything Goes Taco, Best Tamales, and Best Booth. Proceeds will go to Waste Not, a Phoenix charity that distributes perishable food to the homeless.
You can find the team entry form, sponsorship opportunities, and other pertinent info at their website. To keep up with new event info, follow @AZTacoFestival.
I’ll be one of the judges in this showdown. Let’s get some Texans out there to show them how it’s done.
Taqueria Maya Quiche
May 3rd, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | 3 responses
In August of ’09, Jeff Balke wrote a great blog post about Washington Avenue in the Houston Heights, which coined and immortalized the term “douchefication”. If you cruise down Washington around midnight, you will find a large quantity of wealthy and intoxicated patrons that listen to pop music intentionally and think they can tell the difference between Grey Goose and Stolichnaya in a Long Island Iced Tea.
The good bars and music venues are long gone and have been replaced with trendy, packed dance clubs with unimaginative bartenders and top 40 remixes playing on booming sound systems intended as a conversation preventative.
In the last month or two, Taqueria Tierra Caliente has changed their location to Washington, and a new player has moved into town: Taqueria Maya Quiche. Stationed in front of The Lot, this truck has been drumming up a good bit of business since its arrival.
I had never ventured into The Lot before so I thought I’d case the joint. I tried to ignore the two straight girls making out at the bar, but they were in between me and the bartender. The speakers thumped some kind of Michael Jackson techno remix butchery that made my stomach turn. I had to shout.
“AHEM. EXCUSE ME, MA’AM”.
No response.
“MIND IF I ORDER A DRINK?”
“Oh thanks baby! I’ll have a Patrón shot and she’ll have a Grey Goose and Red Bull! Hee-Hee!”
As an amateur anthropologist, I opted to converse with her in her native language by executing a vintage 1991 Shannen Dougherty eye roll.
Some soulless doucheketeer soaked in Axe Body Spray bumped into me, scratching my arm with the rhinestones on his shirt. I tried to stare him down but he was wearing sunglasses.
Sunglasses.
I left the bar before I could get myself into trouble. Taqueria Maya Quiche was in full effect. A dozen wobbling patrons lined up in front of the joint, so I cut in line and ordered some tacos, knowing that none of these guys have ever been in a fist fight in their lives for fear of messing up their hair or damaging their jewelry. They’ve never even watched a Western.
There’s a funny thing about Washington Avenue. I’ve noticed that nobody fights. They will push each other around, yell, take their shirts off while waiting for their buddies to pull them away, but nobody swings. These are a bunch of hand models that practice suggestive faces in the mirror before going out for the evening. They use daily facial moisturizer.
Maya Quiche is an unusual name for a taco truck, right? That’s because you’re thinking of quiche, that awful egg pie thing that old people make for breakfast. That’s not it. The Quiché are a Mayan people from the highlands of Guatemala, mostly from Chichicastenango, or Chichi for short. Guatemalans are just like Mexicans except shorter.
I ordered three tacos al pastor. If you don’t know what those are by now, you’ve got some catching up to do, homie. I hoped they’d have some unique Mayan cuisine or tamales wrapped in banana leaves, but no such luck. I ordered con todo, “with everything”. At most taco trucks, this means they’re going to put fresh chopped white onions and cilantro on your taco. If the taco truck is on Washington Street, I’ve learned that the demands of the audience dictate what goes on your taco.
I can only imagine the remonstrance of the Washington crowd when the truck first opened.
“Where is the lettuce? Where is the tomato? Where is the CHEESE, and why aren’t you playing KE$HA?”
I’ve said before to be warned of taco trucks that acknowledge gringo-ism by replacing onions and cilantro with lettuce and tomato. To placate the hordes, Maya Quiche adds everything to their tacos. Cilantro, onions, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese. And you know what? It’s pretty good. The pork was on the dry side, but when you add all of those fresh elements to it and dump some salsa on top, you won’t notice. The red salsa was just how I like it. Bright red and filled with jalapeño seeds, with an ideal texture. Although the meat is the core of the taco, you’ve got to realize that the pastor test is the toughest to pass. I’m guessing that if I had ordered a fajita taco, it would have passed with flying colors.
The beauty is, if you’re in this location you don’t need to serve good tacos. You could sell cans of Spam for five bucks a pop if you were so inclined. These jokers will buy anything. Maya Quiche serves a fine taco with quality ingredients- even though they don’t have to. To someone who has spent the last three hours on the dance floor guzzling shots of high end sipping tequila with a salted rim and dry-humping girls who have been giving him bad phone numbers, this is a king’s feast.
Did you know Patrón is owned by a co-founder of the Paul Mitchell line of hair care products?
I continued down Washington, seeing people pee in alleys and argue about reality shows. Two guys leaned into the passenger window of a car, sharing a box of pizza and a bottle of Grey Goose with the bar spigot still on it. One guy on the street opted to remove his shirt and tie it around his head. I mean, that actually made sense to him.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike these folks. They’re not too different than me, really- just younger, drunker, richer, and they use hair dryers. I had a good time hanging around on Washington, but I’ve got to admit I felt a bit smug, for one simple reason.
I know better places to hang out.
The facts remain. Some girls need a place to make out with each other to attract guys with Prada shoes or an Audi key chain, and some guys need a place to dress like characters in The Fast and the Furious and break up pseudo-fights that would have never occurred. I don’t hold it against them- it’s not their fault they have never spot welded, caught a saltwater fish, or changed their own tire.
G&T in the New York Times
April 22nd, 2010 in Insanity!, Tacos! by Jay | one response
I submitted a taco photograph to the online New York Times for a reader-driven feature, and they published it on their website. This was taken with a Canon G10 I borrowed from a friend. I like this photo because the whole image appears to be in focus. The slight haze you see is the steam coming off of these superbad Taconmadre tacos. Check it out!
The Pancake Taco
March 23rd, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | 5 responses
Fancy people call them crêpes. I call them pancake tacos. Either way, the French just found a bunch of pretentious things like pears and berries and goat cheese, rolled it in a pancake, and called it something other than a taco so they could take credit for inventing a taco.
Just because you wear turtleneck sweaters, tortoise shell glasses and cologne I can’t pronounce, does not mean you invented the taco.
That being said, pancake tacos are really delicious. If you’re in Houston, stop by Melange Creperie on Westheimer and Taft (in Mango’s parking lot), and a nice fella named Buffalo Sean will throw one or two together for you. No, he will not be wearing a turtleneck.
Ruby’s Taqueria
February 10th, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | 2 responses
I came across this unusual taco truck in a rural area north of the Houston metro. It was impossible to get to, in this odd corner where Huffmeister and Hempstead Highway converge. The unpaved driveway was situated in a manner where you couldn’t get to it without breaking a couple of traffic laws.
It was a beautiful sunny and cool Texas winter day. A huge hand painted sign read, “TACOS OPEN”. Along with the taco truck, this lot contained an abandoned snow cone stand and a beautiful blue vintage Mustang with a torn, battered tarp obscuring it just enough so that I could clearly see blue, chrome, and awesome.
A long-legged black chicken doted around, searching for gizzard grit amongst a pile of bottle caps. My dining companion, who we will call Penelope Cruz, entertained the thought of ordering a chicken taco just to see what would happen. I explained to her that it was probably a fighting breed rather than a poultry bird. 
She was impressed by my vast knowledge of avian genetics.
Penelope Cruz then tried to befriend the hen, and if you don’t know chickens, trying to play with a chicken is kind of like playing that pop-up Orbitz game where you try to hit home runs over and over again. Or watching Ghost Hunters.
I ordered fajita and pastor (pork) tacos and a bottle of Joya; a grapefruit-flavored drink similar to Fresca but only distributed in Mexico. You can kill four men with this thick glass bottle before it breaks.
Four.
I once learned a valuable lesson about these non-twist bottle caps. Back when I was exploring Tijuana looking for a place to live, I came across this seedy bar called Carmen’s where there were people sleeping on the tables. I bought a raffle ticket for a buck or two, and won a bottle of El Presidente brandy, accompanied by a large glass bottle of Coke. I put the edge of the bottle on the bar and tried to ‘slap off’ the bottle cap with no luck.
A guy that looked exactly like Danny Trejo snatched the Coke bottle from my hand. I thought he was going to swing it at me, but instead he snapped off the bottle cap with his teeth and handed it back to me in one fluid motion.
It was the coolest thing I had ever seen in real life.
A bottle of brandy and a few beers later, I thought I’d give it a try. Why not? Uncle Sam was paying for my dental work anyway. I bought a Pacifico, gripped the edge of the bottle cap by my teeth and…
CRACK!
I broke the entire neck of the bottle off , cutting my face pretty good in the process. I spent the rest of the night holding a wad of napkins against my face and dripping blood and beer on the floor, reveling in the fact that I now looked like a local in this shady Tijuana cantina.
I have since mastered the art of opening bottles with my teeth, but I prefer to use a bottle opener.
Anyway, back to the taco truck. A screened-off dining area was handcrafted around the south side of the trailer, and the interior was outright quirky. Framed religious prints, a combination of plastic and live plants, and an awkwardly situated Foosball table were the key design elements here.
Wooden seagulls were strung up across the ceiling, each with a fancifully-folded dollar bill in its beak. It was all pink, yellow, and girly looking, like a blender full of Barbies.
The gal in the trailer dinged a bell to let me know the tacos were ready. The sliced limes were larger than key limes, but smaller than your average lime found in your local market. Both the pastor and the fajita were dry and bland, to the point that saturating them with lime juice provided only slight improvement. The red salsa was a dark maroon, and had an unwelcome sweetness that had to be countered with the application of table salt. The salsa verde was bland and uninspired. Yes, I am using the term “uninspired” when discussing taco truck salsa. So what.
Ruby’s Taqueria has an extensive menu, and before dogging it too much I’d like to stress the fact that a lame taco truck taco is still five times better than any Taco Bell menu item. If you’re in the area, I implore you to stop in just to take a closer look at the dining area. It’s something special, and I wish I hadn’t fought sundown to grab the few photos I did. Ruby’s is open 24/7.
Now if you’ll excuse me, someone’s got to teach Penelope Cruz how to hotwire a Mustang.
TACO TRUCK CRAWL 3:THE AWAKENING
February 5th, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | one response
The Houston Chowhounds, a 700+ group of chefs, food industry folks, food bloggers and food adventurers, are presenting their third annual Taco Truck Crawl. It’s kind of like an amusement park for grownups, except there are no rollercoasters and fewer knife fights. And I’m running the show.
For those who know, the last Taco Truck Crawl was a load of fun for everyone who attended … except for that one guy that got a head injury from a pack of Chicles launched from a slingshot. There were around 100 in attendance last time (not that anyone actually took the time to count heads), and I’m guessing there will be a few more this time. We will be visiting a lot of taco trucks and/or restaurants in the Houston area and beyond.
29-95.com will be sponsoring the event with a party bus, with a general rule prohibiting the consumption of alcoholic beverages that we will collectively ignore like we did last time. If you’d prefer to caravan or car pool instead, feel free. I’ll be on the party bus if I’m not carpooling with Chamillionaire.
The illustrious event will be held on Saturday, April 10. This will not be on a Sunday, which it was last time because a certain really famous unnamed pastry chef named Plinio had to work on Saturday and asked us to do it on Sunday, and then he did not show up for the Taco Truck Crawl anyway. (Thanks, Plinio, for ruining my life.)
The list of taco trucks we will visit is shrouded in mystery and will only be divulged by a secret handshake or by discreetly slipping a ten in my pocket. I can tell you that on this list is Karanchos in Channelview, which I am probably a bit too excited about.
Be sure to bring lawnchairs, ice chests, beer, drinks, cash and sombreros.
We also will have some kind of afterparty. I don’t know where yet. Probably somewhere with lasers or a donkey.
Again, this is a free event, but we’d like to get you to RSVP here so we can get a good idea how many are coming along. Not a member of Chowhounds? Shoot me an email and I’ll save you a spot on the bus.
Note: Comments are disabled on this post, but please feel free to comment here.
Taqueria Taconmadre
February 1st, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | 7 responses
Pasadena, Texas is a city of industry. Everyone you meet is an operator of something. Growing up in LaPorte, TX, you were expected to work in a plant somewhere. Many of the guys I grew up with ended up with the same job as their dad, and got a house and kids in the same neighborhood. If you are driving down 225, remarkably, the stale pollution smell hits you at the exact same time as you see the “Pasadena City Limits” sign. If you are driving through Pasadena at night, you will see more police cars than civilian cars, and they will pull you over just for not driving a truck.
I don’t have a problem with police, but I do have a problem with Pasadena police. As a teenager, I was pulled over once with three Hispanic friends in the car with me. Why? Because my car was blue. And blue is also a gang color, I guess. We were photographed and added to a “suspected gang member” watchlist, although none of us were breaking any laws at the time. After that, I was pulled over regularly. You know, for being a suspected gang member. That was just the start of my troubles in Pasadena (some of which actually were my direct responsibility), and I pledged never to return.
Ever.
As you can see on the taco map at the top right of the page, there aren’t many spots in the Southeast area. It’s not because there are no tacos there, because oh boy, there are plenty. It’s because I hate Pasadena with the fury of a thousand sun gods.
However, due to the astounding number of taco eateries in this area I had to buckle on this commitment and understand that Pasadena could no longer be ignored. I called up my old friend Mando the Pitbull, who lives in the area. We call him that because he injures people.
We cruised down Edgebrook, right off of 45, in Pitbull’s gleaming F150. I hadn’t been on this street in years, and I liked what I saw. Scores of taco trucks extended down both sides of the street. I grinned from ear to ear as Mando adjusted the settings on the Rockford-Fosgate Power T500 amplifier with his cell phone, pushing 2200 watts to each of the three T215D2 Powerstage 2 15-inch subwoofers. A hairline crack in the asphault spidered across the street, as a flight of pigeons went into a collective seizure. You know how armies sometimes play drums while they march into battle? It’s the same concept, I think. Rather than surprise his enemies, he prefers to announce his wrath from afar.
I spotted Taqueria Taconmadre on the left, which looks like a small restaurant with three army-green school bus-sized taco trucks in the parking lot, two of which were closed. Neon signs advertised some of their non-typical cuisine, such as enchiladas poblanas and elotes. I couldn’t really figure out the restaurant- the door was unlocked, but it just went into a small room with another door. Whatever.
I ordered at the truck: one suadero, one al pastor (they call it “trompo”), one fajita, and one barbacoa. I opened up my foil, and they looked and smelled great. I frowned at the odd pre-packaged, seemingly factory-sealed salsa pouch. After dousing with lime and a touch of salt, I applied the brownish-red salsa and chowed down. The salsa had a bold, surprising and complex taste that I was instantly enamored with. I put it on everything. The al pastor stood out with a very unique, rich and delicious taste. On a street where taco trucks reign, Taconmadre makes its mark with unique seasonings and some of my favorite red salsa around. It’s also open 24/7. As we enjoyed our tacos, a police cruiser pulled a Taurus over in the parking lot, brought the guy to the back of the vehicle and started patting him down. Probably one of those non-truck driving gang member types.
"Pitbull" Armando is smiling. Mando never smiles.
A Taco Hunter Strikes Gold
January 4th, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | 7 responses
I visited Baytown, TX with J.C. Reid a month or two ago, and he found a hidden gem, Taqueria Sahuayo.
On a cold and overcast Sunday in January, I drove to Baytown to pick up my brother and continue the taco expedition in this oft-forgotten city.
“What an ugly day”, I noted.
“Not really”, he responded brightly. “It’s always overcast in Baytown”.
This didn’t make any sense to me at the time, but as I tore down the road that went through the Exxon refinery, it occurred to me that he was right. Every time I go to Baytown I get lost, and every time I go to Baytown it is overcast. Go figure. Read the rest…
Tamales Atascocita
January 3rd, 2010 in Tacos! by oberata | one response
Here’s a guest post from taco hunter Jeff Timpanaro. You can see more of Jeff on his personal blog. Enjoy! G&T
TAMALES ATASCOCITA 5105 Fm 1960 Rd E, Humble, TX 77346
Most Houstonians agree: for all its commuting connectivity, F.M. 1960 is one Ugly Betty stretch of road.
Despite being a haven for local businesses – many of which are great independent restaurants – we suspect that city planners from Dayton all the way to Cypress just haven’t given a damn about aesthetics.
“Screw zoning and trees. Let’s just keep putting up stuff,” they say.
4,203,338 strip centers later, they have just now taken notice of the 14% occupancy rate, and are taking a well-deserved kolache break. When they return, they’re going to put up more of those intersection cameras that generate you a customized $75.00 ticket for going 1 mph through a right turn at a red light. Picture included. Read the rest…
The Elusive Tacos El Palmar
December 13th, 2009 in Tacos! by Jay | 5 responses
Me, searching for a week to find a taco truck right by my house.
Monday
I met up with some colorful characters at the infamous Big Star Bar on a Monday night in the Houston Heights. Naturally, our mutual conversation turned to tacos, so I suggested the nearby Tacos Three Amigos truck on 20th street one block away.
As we all know, every crew you run across involves at least one slinky vegetarian girl that tries to change up the food game for everyone. I can play this game all day long on my side of town, because I’ve got tacos for anyone, even these “I’m-Audrey-Hepburn- except-I-don’t-wear-fur” types.
For instance, Tacos Three Amigos has excellent cactus tacos (nopales). Vegetarian problem solved.
“Hurry, they close early on slow nights”, I noted.
They headed to the truck around the block, but the leader of the pack, Martinez, called me back to tell me that Tacos Three Amigos was closed. Bummer. But then he told me something that blew my mind. Read the rest…
