This article was contributed by fellow tacoman Ziggy Smogdust. You can read more about his ethnic food adventures on his ethnic food blog which covers the Southwest side of Houston. Enjoy! -GunsandTacos
I had just sent GunsandTacos a message asking if he knew of any good trucks by my school. I work at the south end of the energy corridor, so cheap ethnic eats are hard to come by. I set out to explore the area on Highway Six at Eldridge, heading south on Highway Six. No luck. Logans, Chili’s, & Timmy Chan’s was it. There was a new Ostioneria Arandas that I may have to check out.
I headed east on Westheimer back towards my part of town. I had promised to install a new router and wireless card for my mother. My dad had been meaning to get around to it, but he passed away a few weeks ago, so the job was up to me. Read the rest…
Here’s a guest post from taco champ Jeff Timpanaro, who has possibly found the ugliest taco stand of all time. Humble, TX. – GunsandTacos
Just as I was just about to open my pie hole – again – to bitch about the lack of taco trucks in my community, up pops Tortas El Tortugo, less than one mile from my house. It has likely been there for years, but in my trafficky haste I’ve just never noticed it. So I guess it didn’t “pop up” as much as it entered my awareness. Happy day.
This morning it was time to make my first visit. After all, I’d just completed some lab work which required a morning fast. As those who know and love me will attest, the only thing I hate worse than missing breakfast is being trapped in the shower when Aerosmith comes on the radio. Read the rest…
Alma Latina Seafood and Taqueria, 2203 North Shepherd
When I moved to the Houston Heights two years ago, I headed straight to the Mexican cantinas. There’s a logic behind this.
See, if I walk into your everyday bar, I’m an everyday guy. I’ve done it for years, and it’s just boring. Same conversation, same jukebox. My striking good looks don’t work for me, because there’s a Gerard Butler on every corner in this town.
If I walk into one of these Mexican joints, I’m either a celebrity or some kind of psycho. There’s no in between. All eyes are on me. The men want to kick my ass, and the women give me sly looks. Some people call me an adrenaline junkie. Read the rest…
On a remarkably sunny and breezy Houston day, 10 something, I drove up to the empty Northwest Mall parking lot. A lone brown paper bag quietly tumbled across the lot, as I pulled into a parking spot with a faded wheelchair emblem painted onto the gritty asphalt.
Three men sat on the curb in front of Macy’s, which had been closed for months. As they stared, the largest of the three, wearing a straw sombrero, reached into a small cooler and pulled out a 32 ounce Tecate, or as we called it in Mexico, a “caguama”.
I stepped out of my large vehicle, advancing toward the men with a steady, unflinching gait.
I was wary, knowing there was no legitimate reason to hang around the infamous Mall of Ghosts, that is unless one were interested in purchasing cell phone accessories or airbrushed Scarface shirts.
As he smiled an evil grin, I then realized that this would be the beginning of an epic day. These men were here for tacos, and the long-awaited Houston Chowhounds Taco Crawl had begun.
The vehicles started pouring in, and we loaded the bus. Dozens of chefs, food writers/bloggers, restaurant industry folks, and tacoholics met up in this giant deserted parking lot with one mission in mind. Well, two if you include the consumption of alcoholic beverages.
We started out with two creatively named teams: Team A and Team B.
Team A was the taco party bus, which was a large school bus that held about 45. Team B included everyone else. Some of the taco hounds decided to come up with Team C, which included anyone riding in a convertible, though I think their loyalty to the group had more to do with following Peggy around.
You see, Peggy is a load of fun to hang out with, plus she had a convertible and a homemade batch of sangria that was eloquently composed the night before with watermelon juice, blood orange, papaya, thai basil and rosé; served with dry soda, vodka, and frozen grapes. Frozen grapes, because ice cubes are just boring.
I brought along a pinata that had been painstakingly shaped into the form of a famous Mexican luchador. As the bus departed in the exact opposite direction of Jarro Cafe, I handed out Mexican comic books to everyone, most with lowbrow illustrations of scantily-clad Chicana women on the front covers. Why not.
Meanwhile, the exotic and mysterious Lina Fuh, riding in the front seat of the bus, explained to the bus driver that she was probably holding her map upside down.
I’d brought along a small and powerful slingshot I had purchased at Canino’s on Airline the day before. You know, for some extra bus fun. I loaded a pack of Chicles, stretched back the band as far as I could, and fired toward the back of the bus. I missed, however, and it launched the Chicle pack right into the forehead of the guy sitting directly behind me. The chicle pack exploded on impact, and rained down onto the floor of the bus.
DAMN that had to hurt.
Of course I wasn’t going to let Mr. Cerebral Contusion get in the way of everyone’s fun, so I pocketed the slingshot, yelled “Heads Up!”, and threw the Chicles toward the back of the bus instead. And what do you know, on the first throw and the second, I somehow hit two different girls right in the cornea.
Don't let the bright colors fool you- these aren't child's play.
Both teams stopped in at the famous Jarro Cafeon North Gessner. Not only did they have the aptly-named “Neon”, the sauce with a 200-year half life, they also released two new salsas for the occasion. They were well prepared for the crowd, and got the orders out in a flash. In fact, they started giving out delicious free bistek tacos to anyone who wasn’t already stuffed with tacos. The tacos carnitas, marinated in orange juice, were popular as well as some of the less ordinary menu fare, such as the cochinita de pibil and campechano, a beef/chorizo combination which is hailed as their specialty.
Photo by Syd Kearney, 2995
Beaver’s superchef Jonathan Jones captivated the foodies with his fluent Spanish and upcoming recipes, while cake extraordinaire Rachelwowed the dessert crew with the exquisite art of buttercream preparation and food photography. This gave me a wonderful opportunity to siphon gasoline from both of their vehicles since the bus was running a little low.
Tacos El Mapache is a cool little restaurant, and it has a taco stand in the same strip center. We stepped over a guy that was passed out on the sidewalk with a half-full beer in his hand, so I quickly called dibs on it. Hey, there’s no beer like free beer.
We lined up at the taco truck, and everyone tried something different. The barbacoa and lengua were a big hit, and we enjoyed the Southern Mexico style pastor as well.
The crew set up camp in the parking lot. We were short on plastic cups, so I picked up a bunch of small brown paper bags to help the beer drinkers assimilate into their new surroundings.
About the time we had finished eating, Team B was back from Cocina de Colima. Cocina de Colima was one of our stops that make their corn tortillas by scratch and on demand, and they’ve got some of my favorite tacos al pastor in town. Overall the consensus was good, though some weren’t crazy for the ceviche or mojarra frita there.
Photo by Syd Kearney 29-95
We packed up and headed to our next stop, Tacorrey and Taqueria Mi Jalisco, again departing in the wrong direction.
Tacorrey and Taqueria Mi Jalisco are two separate taco trucks across the street from one another on Fulton and Berry Street. The various meats at Tacorrey were popular, as well as their tacos al vapor (steamed tacos) that they had cooked up just for the Chowhound crew. Some of the more adventurous eaters headed across the street to try the excellent tacos de tripas at Mi Jalisco, which were served with sweet caramelized onions and grilled jalapenos.
Most of Team A found a nice shady spot behind the taco truck to set up their lawnchairs. I had a great time talking tacos with Tex-Mex aficionado Jay Francis. I poked around at everyone’s tacos, finding out which were the favorites. We had plenty of room in the parking lot to hang around and chat in the beautiful weather. I was surprised to meet Adam Richman, host of the Travel Channel’s “Man vs. Food” grubbing out on tacos as well.
Behind the scenes, teams B and C were staging a coup. With the notorious J.C. Reid and Jenny Wang leading the way, teams B and C formed Team Rogue, a band of Taco Truck Crawl deviants who pledged a sovereign allegiance to go somewhere that was not on the printed itinerary. Also they were kind of drunk.
Team Rogue, led by J.C. Reid.
Team A took the party bus to Taqueria Laredo on Patton Street. Laredo on Patton has been highly reviewed by food writers across the city, regardless of the Mexican Barbie interior. The different meats were roasted and slow-cooked, and were served with handmade flour tortillas. Although I’m a big fan of the corn tortilla, flour can be a bit easier to work with when you’ve got a half-pound of green pork adobo dripping everywhere. In the nearby Fiesta parking lot, most of Team A headed to a churro truck which served amazing fresh cinnamon and condensed-milk desserts.
Amazing unplanned churro stop.
Meanwhile, Team Rogue was at Gerardos Drive In, enjoying Gerardo’s famed barbacoa straight from the skull, steamed right in front of them. I must admit, I was insanely jealous when I saw the picture below.
This is how it's done, folks.
After we got back to our cars, half the crew met up at Big Star Bar on 19th for the afterparty, and the other half made a pit stop at Mam’s House of Ice for snow cones beforehand to cool off their scorched palates before showing up at Big Star.
I’m fairly sure that everyone who had anything to do with Houston food was in attendance. After some beer and tequila, I disemboweled the pinata so everyone could try the unusual Mexican candy.
Although there were specials on Mexican beer and Lone Stars, I enjoyed Conroe’s Pine Belt Ale from Southern Star Brewery, which seems to be popping up everywhere lately. A nice fella named Mike Watson even brought a magnificent pork shoulder for those remarkable folks that still had appetites.
Someone even brought a keg of beer to the party. I have no idea whose it was, but I grabbed a plastic cup from the bartender and went to work on it, because hey, you know what they say about free beer.
The following article was contributed by Jeff Timpanaro, who seriously stopped at a taco truck on his way home from cardiac rehab. This man is a hero. -G&T
Taco Truck Virgin Goes Motorin’
A few months back, Mr. Guns & Tacos himself asked me to contribute to this blog about . . oh well, you know. It sure the hell wasn’t guns.
"I NEVER DID IT, OK?!"
I wonder if it occurred to him that I had NEVER ONCE visited a taco truck. Oh yes, I was your regular Molly Ringwald (“Claire”) from Breakfast Club: a pompous virgin of massive proportions who had never hosted her own taco invasion.
Oh sure, I could tiptoe my way around Airline Dr., visiting many an independent Mexican joint. But I never thought I was brave enough for taco trucks. Or maybe it just never crossed my mind.
I am so glad all of that changed today.
CHASTITY VANQUISHED "AL PASTOR"
My dad was driving me home from cardiac rehab. He had to stop for gas, and ended up at an Exxon station in Humble – very near George W. Bush Int’l Airport. (FM 1960 at Lee Rd.)
In the parking lot sat my knight in shining armor: Tacos El Mexicano (or El Taco Mexicano).
Being 4 o’clock in the afternoon, there was no one around, but the big neon said OPEN so off I went while dad filled up the car.
In Spanish I ordered two tacos, both “al pastor”. I asked for “cebolla, limon, y cilantro” (onion, lime, and cilantro). As I waited, I couldn’t resist asking the guy whether or not they made the corn tortillas from scratch.
He explained that they made the “harina” (flour) fresh but the corn tortillas were made by Guerrero, and he even showed me the package. As he assured me how wonderful they were, I know that somewhere, somehow, someone’s sensor de bullsheet must have been blowin’ up.
I also noticed with mild amusement a Harris County certificate of Food Service Managerial Training that was posted on the window. Probably there to appease curious gringos like me. It hedged my doubt by at least 6%.
Anyway, they quickly produced two tacos al pastor, and I was on my way.
As I settled into the back seat, my dad – previously uninterested in snacking – quickly changed his tune.
“Oh man, these look good, Pop,” I said.
And they did. What they lacked in size they made up with thickness: two double wrapped tacos filled with firm seasoned pork, onions, and cilantro. I was happy to see they had included sauteed onions on the side.
I was so ready to snarf these down that I forgot to take a picture until I’d eaten most of the 2nd taco. Here’s the best my Blackberry could render:
After all the evidence was gone, I discovered the little cup of green sauce I’d requested at the bottom of the bag. I fished it out, dunked in a finger and tried it . . . I think my pupils must have turned the color of volcano lava. A hot mofo of a green sauce that I was glad I’d left off my tacos, in retrospect.
So there you have it. I’m your sleazy, promiscuous, Taco Truck bitch! And I’m proud of it. So if you’re predisposed to Taco Bell, Chipotle, or heaven forbid Casa Ole, go find yourself a stud taco truck and see what you’ve been missing.
Unless you’re from Yugoslavia or Dallas, or currently playing Second Life in your mom’s basement, you probably know about Airline Road. This place has all of the best elements of Mexico. Panaderias, refresquerias, carnicerias, ostionerias, and taco trucks. Looking for a giant tres leches cake? A pinata? A michelada or bounty hunter?
You’ve come to the right place, cabron.
Night chicken disco.
Though there are usually several taco trucks in the area, I arrived at the El Regio truck late in the day, after most of the daytime stands had driven off to count their dollars and watch cockfights or something. So it’s time for some chicken.
Pollos Asados El Regio always seems to be there. A massive yellow/orange trailer with gleaming stainless and neon lights, with a giant cartoon chicken (of course) plastered on the exterior, the El Regio truck is both a graphic designer’s nightmare and a chicken lover’s dream, visually overshadowing any nearby taco trucks in its realm.
I stepped out of the giant car, crushing a small scorpion with my boot heel and ensuring that my windows were down so that everyone in the area could hear “As the Levee Breaks” blasting through the speakers as I made my entrance into the chicken stand parking lot.
I reviewed their extensive menu, which consisted of these items: A whole chicken and a half chicken. Now I prefer dark meat, but I’m not going to tell him that because my Spanish is terrible, and last time I did that I was forced to do some kind of pantomime. I didn’t want to do the air guitar thing with my leg again, so I just ordered a half chicken.
So listen. You can go to nice restaurants all day long without finding chicken that is genuinely slow-smoked. I don’t know how they get away with this. I mean, eating baked chicken is like sitting through a horror movie with no frontal nudity.
Pollos Asados El Regio really smokes this stuff, and they smoke it well- all the way through. Remember your buddy’s barbecue a couple of years ago, where you were really hungry but it took four hours for the chicken to be ready, and by the time it was ready you were too drunk to eat? It’s kind of like that chicken, except you get to eat it instead of just savoring that smell while you told jokes you couldn’t remember the punch lines to and hit on that guy’s daughter while he was right there.You remember.
The red achiote-rubbed, pleasantly blackened chicken is served with a liberal quantity of grilled whole onions, Mexican rice, fresh lime slices, corn tortillas, creamy jalapeno salsa and borracho beans. I’m not sure if that’s what they call these beans, because it was more of a stew; complete with beans, chunks of beef and gristle, carrots, and a fatty chicken broth. Once I tried it, I wanted to buy a gallon of it.
This chicken was outstanding, and in my opinion could go toe-to-toe with any four-star restaurant in town. I wanted to eat the bones.
Dinner of Campiones.
I’m not big on rice- it’s one of the few things I occasionally leave on my plate. But real Mexican rice is amazing stuff, and I don’t use the term lightly. Cooked perfectly with chicken broth, it was a staple to be reckoned with. Obviously, I made chicken tacos with the rice, onions and chicken, and dipped it in the soup like real caballeros instinctively do. The creamy green salsa was great as well, but wasn’t as spicy as I’d hoped. I was out of bear mace, so I dumped some Blaire’s After Death sauce on it for added taste bud masochism.
What a meal, and for an easy five bucks, I could spare some dinero to wash it down with a giant can of Tecate. That’s what Cente would probably do.
My coworker Pablo took the bus to work this morning. An engine belt broke, and he had to pick up the belt at an auto parts store.
“Where do you live, Pablo?”
“North Gessner.”
“That place where all the tacos are?”
“Yep.”
“Need a ride home?”
North Gessner, in the Spring Branch area, is a taco lover’s paradise. The streets are strewn with taco stands and taquerias. I knew the auto parts store might close, but hey, I’m shopping for tacos here.
If you're advertising the best tacos in town, you'd better deliver!
I saw the Jarro Cafe taco truck on the left, and hit my brakes in the middle of North Gessner. I had seen that logo before, remembering Robb Walsh’s Top Ten Taco Trucks list from 1995. This one was on the top of the list. It’s also been featured on Addie Broyle’s food blog, and was one of the historic Austin Meets Houston Taco Tour stops.
As a matter of principle, I like to stop at the lesser known taco stands, the places that might have a unique taco meat selection and regional salsas. But I’m not missing the “number one” taco stand. I can’t just drive past it.
As you can see, the sign clearly states “The Best Tacos in Town”. Hearing the cars crash behind me as I u-turned my boat-car, I noticed that the other side of the sign read “The Best Salsas in Town”. I pulled up and jogged to the taco stand as if I was carrying a styrofoam cooler containing a heart transplant.
Oddly enough, the stand is in front of an actual restaurant of the same name. Others may not understand my logic, but why go inside a restaurant when there’s a taco truck right here?
This taco trailer was in tip-top shape, with polished stainless everywhere. These people knew exactly what they were doing.And then I saw the menu. Every taco meat I’d ever heard of was on the list, in Spanish and English. Shazzam!
Even suadero tacos. And suadero, my friends, is something you want to sink your teeth into.
Their tacos were priced at $1.50 each, and there was a five dollar special that advertised three tacos and a drink. Although I had a feeling their fajita tacos would be top-notch, I decided to go with some of the more unusual fare.
Cochinita Pibil, Campechano, and Suadero.
Campechano: Chorizo and beef. That’s right, in the same taco. Jarro Cafe claims this is their specialty.
Cochinita Pibil: Yucatan-style pulled pork.
Suadero: An excellent type of beef, a cut, texture, and flavor that is perfect for tacos.
These tacos were served with lime, grilled onions, cilantro, and radishes. The radishes were a great touch, and reminded me of the Tijuana taco stands that served whole radishes with every taco order.
I tried the campechano first. I thought the beef and sausage combo was unusual, and I was right. It was unusually awesome. This was grade-A chorizo, and the two textures were perfect together. I generously applied the bright-orange salsa from a nearby plastic container. It accented these meats perfectly.
Then I tried the cochinita pibil. It had a texture similar to canned sloppy joe mix, for lack of a better description. It had an interesting smoky and tangy flavor, with an obvious influence of dried peppers. I could tell you more, but I pretty much scarfed it down in order to get to the prize taco. It was good, but the lesser of the three. Hey, there’s gotta be one, right?
I applied lime generously to the champion suadero.
“Best salsas in town?” I thought to myself.
“Let’s see what they’ve got”.
I asked the lovely taco lady if she had anything hotter. She smiled and pulled another container from ice, which contained neon green salsa. This salsa would literally glow beneath a black light, if given the chance. I giggled like a little girl as I dumped this stuff all over my suadero taco.
It tasted magnificent. It was absolutely spectacular. And it was really hot. I mean, the orange stuff was hot by most non-Texan standards, but this neon-green wondersauce was the stuff of legends. It was nuclear.
I handed the bottle to Pablo, but he had already killed his three tacos.
“Pablo, please get another taco so you can try this stuff”.
Since the section of Irvington with all the tacos apparently can’t be found intentionally, I had to purposely get lost in the area in order to find it. I didn’t have a taco stand in mind, but the idea was to find a whole block of taco joints and just pick one particular truck.
Since I hate getting lost, I got a friend of mine to pick me up in his car so he could deal with the frustration of getting lost instead, while I pretended to navigate.
I came across a small stand called Taqueria el Taconazo. Wow! I mean, most taco trucks call themselves Taqueria de “Some place in Mexico?”, but somebody had the eggs to call their stand Taqueria el Taconazo.
"And I shall call it, TAQUERIA TACONAZO. "
That’s like, Tacos from the Land of All Tacos or something.
There was another taco truck directly across the street that had 99 cent tacos. I would have gone there instead but admittedly, I was intrigued by the Taconazo name.
There was something really intriguing about this stand- it had a picture on the front that stated, “Tacos de Trompo”, with a familiar photograph of the method al pastor was served in my old Tijuana running grounds. I recalled this Houston Press article I read in 2006 by Robb Walsh all about tacos de trompo, where he explains the cooking method.
Tacos de Trompo. Only found in Mexico.
“Trompo is the Spanish word for the child’s toy we call a top. In the parlance of taquerias, a trompo is a stout metal skewer loaded up with strips of marinated pork cut in a rounded shape. The meat is narrow at the bottom and gets thicker higher up, forming the shape of a top. When the trompo revolves on a vertical roaster, the pork is cooked on the outside edges. When you order a taco, the cooked meat is shaved off, then grilled until it’s crispy. It’s then used to make tacos al pastor (a.k.a. tacos de trompo) and other treats. At least, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.” -Robb Walsh
In this article, he also explains why “tacos de trompo” has been deemed illegal by the Health Department. So even though the tacos al pastor may not be carved from this magnificent meat display, the picture on the front of the taco stand says it sure as hell does.
It’s kind of like a jewelry store having a poster on the window that says, “We Now Carry Blood Diamonds”. You know blood diamonds are probably bad, but you secretly want one or two, although you generally don’t really like diamonds anyway.
That was a really bad analogy. Anyhow, the real reason tacos de trompo are not allowed by the health department is, the health department’s objective is to shut down taco trucks. This is nothing new.
My amigo ordered tortas. “This is a taco stand, what are you thinking?” I asked.
“I’m a real Mexican, so I can order whatever I want”, he explained logically.
I ordered two brisket tacos (“bisteka”), two tacos al pastor, and two fajita tacos. Since I’m currently a Level 2 tacomaster, I went ahead and ordered a lime Jarrito soda while everyone around stared in awe at my sound judgment and impeccable taste.
I keep coming across the same type of red salsa in this part of town. It has an oil base and a smoky taste. It’s good, but it’s not particularly spicy. I like the smoky flavor, but the taste can be overbearing if you really overload your taco with it.
The green salsa was disappointing, and didn’t have much bite to it at all, which in my opinion is the whole point of using the green stuff.
The al pastor was good, but not great. It was heavy on the paprika as expected, and had a savory flavor that went well with the smoky red salsa.
The fajita was the best of the three, and I loved it. Norteamericanos in general tend to put a big emphasis on tender meat, but when it comes to tacos, I like the chewy, gristly stuff that puts hair on your chest, peckerwood.
The torta was another story. Although I didn’t order one myself, my buddy’s torta was PACKED with meat, and looked absolutely amazing. Next time, I’ll be getting the fajita torta.
A preview of the Level 3 Tacomaster beverage: Jarritos Tamarindo.
Folks, I’d like to introduce GunsandTaco.com’s first guest post, written by Jeff Timpanaro. Enjoy!
TWITTER, DROOL, AND YOU
One peril of following someone on Twitter named @GunsAndTacos is that you’re seeing the word “Tacos” about 18 times per day.
It’s easy to understand how seeing the word Tacos in blue, bold font motivates a person to – well – eat more tacos.(I hope psychopaths don’t have the same phenomenon with the ‘Guns’ part.)
But if you click through and read @GunsAndTacos’ blog, which tends to describe “luscious tacos on homemade corn tortillas stacked with barbacoa, cilantro, and onions, with a handful of limes on the side” – well, you might as well not grocery shop anymore. Lunch is – waistline be damned – around the corner at the taco stand.
TACOS FLORES
4808 FM 1960 E.
Humble, TX 77338
Having driven by Tacos Flores in Humble for 7 years and never stopped, I figured it was time to give it a shot. I’m so glad I did.
I don’t know the entire story, but Tacos Flores began like many other taco stands out there: as a trailer with a canopy. But about four years ago, every time I would drive by, I would see new developments being added to the property. Outdoor seating, patio, more umbrellas, a parking lot, more cars, bigger signage, etc.
I don’t know if this was a conscious effort by the owners to attract more (or different) clientele. I remember in its early years, you’d really just see landscaping crews and Mexicanos – lots of them – milling around the lot, ordering taco baskets from a walk-up window. That should have been my clue that the food was good, right? I just never made it in.
But now that the inside and outside decor has been <sigh> “white-ified,” the yuppies, suburban families, college students, and suits in the area are really discovering it. Guess I’m guilty by association, but that’s o.k. It’s been a great discovery.
My first impression walking in was that it was clean, friendly, and that they were serious about preparing fresh food. My dining companions – my mom and two of my sons (both toddlers) sat down while I ordered.
I spoke Spanish to the lady at the counter, who obliged me by speaking Spanish also. I explained it was my first visit, and she seemed genuinely thankful that we finally stopped in.
I ended up with three barbacoa tacos, rice and refried beans on the side. I got mom three ground beef tacos, which might have been a mistake in retrospect. I’m not brave enough to eat lengua; the beef was a safe bet anyway since I planned a taco swap with mom.
I wish I hadn’t, because I had to give up one of my barbacoa tacos – one of the best I’d ever had. I was happy to discover that the tortillas de maiz (corn) were homemade, and you could taste the difference immediately. With ample cilantro, fresh onions on top and two big lime wedges on the side, I was a happy camper. Snarf.
A great add-on was the authentic Mexican Coke in the glass bottle. I think I may have shown my gringo colors when I poured it over ice, but that’s just force of habit. It was dee-lish.
The kids – never an afterthought when deciding where to eat – left happy. They split a gigantic hamburger with fries, which was nothing to write home about but they don’t care much as long as the tank is getting filled and there’s plenty of ketchup.
I think we got out of there for $21.00 or so, which was slightly higher than I’d anticipated. But I can’t fathom what the same amount of food might have cost at Pappasito’s.
So if you’re ever heading east on FM 1960 in Humble, visit Tacos Flores for some great comida. And since my BlackBerry didn’t take any food pictures worth a damn, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
So I guess it didn’t “pop up” as much as it entered my awareness. Happy day.
When I moved to the Houston Heights two years ago, I headed straight to the Mexican cantinas. There’s a logic behind this.
