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.
Jenny Wang, food writer, founder of the Houston ChowHounds, and co-host of Southbound Food radio show on 1560
Jim Gossen, food writer and President/CEO of Louisiana Foods.
Me, a guy that likes tacos.
After agreeing to participate, I spent some time poring through chili aficionado sites, learning about the categories of aroma, consistency, flavor, piquancy, and the Scoville scale. I learned about unusual ingredients that chili guys use. Wikipedia gave this list: sweetcorn, peanut butter, pineapples, bananas, oranges, tomatillos, beer, chorizo, cocoa, chocolate, coffee, tequila, cola, honey, cinnamon, allspice, saffron, molasses, vinegar, wine (usually red), whiskey, and/or bourbon.
There were three categories- Best Chili, Most Original Chili, and Spiciest Chili. I thought these categories were interesting.
Of course, the Best Chili category makes sense, but the Original Chili and Spiciest chili categories worried me a bit. I mean, you could put Froot Loops in it to win the Most Original, and I’d still have to eat it. And if someone really wanted to win the Spiciest Chili category, there’s no limit to what they could do to it, and I’d still have to eat it.
Obviously, I like spicy things. But years ago, I watched a close friend chew up and swallow a habanero. There’s nothing worse than seeing a friend with tears pouring down his face, eating handfuls of ice cream and guzzling milk, with that pleading, “please make it stop” facial expression. Sadistically, there is also nothing funnier in the world.
I’d love to add a video of someone eating a habanero, but incidentally, people that intentionally eat habaneros on camera are also the most annoying people in history. I wouldn’t do that to you.
I thought I’d call on a good friend for advice, so I Googled J.C. Reid, a famous food blogger, and cross-referenced his name against city records to obtain his phone number.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Guns and Tacos.”
“What did you just say?”
“Nevermind. Do you know how to judge a chili cookoff?”
“Vote for the team with the hottest chicks on it. And don’t ever call me again”.
Now that I knew who to vote for, I had to get the appearance thing down. If I’m going to be a judge in a chili contest, I really need to look like I know what I’m doing. In Texas, you do that with a cowboy hat.
Anyone can just put on a cowboy hat. But not just anyone can wear it. To properly wear a cowboy hat, you also need to have a Western shirt, a large belt with a large buckle, a Western jacket, and you have to wear Wranglers. Of course, I have all of these things.
Me.
I arrived at the event in my large Cadillac. As I casually walked past the Texas flag, all of the area photographers took advantage of this rare opportunity to take photographs of me, The Chili Judge.
I was missing one more ingredient in my ensemble: A cold can of Tecate.
Unfortunately there was no Tecate, so I had a Lone Star. I wasn’t sure if it was okay for the judges to drink before the competition, so I hurriedly bought beers for each of the judges so that I wouldn’t be singled out.
The Zydeco Dots were playing, and amazingly, I don’t think they took a break the entire time we were there. Nothing beats the combination of Zydeco music and Tecate Beer Lone Star Beer on a Saturday afternoon.
I took my small composition book out of my shirt pocket, and placed it on the judging table next to the cup of fresh ginger slices I had brought to cleanse my palate between each tasting. I explained the purpose of the ginger slices, and Katharine and Jenny started laughing uncontrollably. I thought they were laughing at my ginger at first, but Jenny explained that they were just laughing at an old joke, and “not your fresh ginger slices that you brought to a chili cookoff in Texas”.
This is chili. Chili gets everywhere.
There were markers and paper on the table so that we could write down our opinions of each chili dish, served in styrofoam cups. Some were garnished with lime slices and crackers, some had cornbread on top, and some were covered in aluminum foil to retain the heat. Some had a strong beer taste, some had chunks of spicy venison sausage, and others had whole cloves of garlic in the mix. Each cup had a number on the bottom to help coordinate it with our notes.
“How do I know which cup belongs to which team?”, I asked the judge.
“You’re not supposed to know which cup belongs to which team. If you did, you would probably just vote for the team with the hottest chicks on it”, he explained.
I was then forced to choose a winning cup of chili based solely upon my flavor preferences and level of inebriation. At first, I insisted on eating all the chili that they gave me, but after about twenty cups of spicy chili, I thought it may be a better idea not to do that at all.
Jim Gossen, who is possibly the coolest guy in the world, got a bit of chili on his shirt, which was really funny to me until I realized that I had much more chili on my shirt.
We agreed on the Best Chili, The Spiciest Chili, and The Most Original Chili. I broke a sweat and had to use my hat as a fan once or twice, but there were no Froot Loops in the chili, which made me very happy.
"Come and Take It", the winning team from Sugar Hill Studios. Photo by Groovehouse.
Me, Katharine, Jenny, Jim, and Lone Star. Photo by Groovehouse.
This may or may not resemble the actual taco party bus.
I’ve been working on a lot of things for the upcoming H-town taco crawl on October 25th. Here’s what I’ve got so far:
Jarro Cafe, the salsa champions of Houston, will be introducing two new salsas upon our arrival just for the Houston ChowHounds. If anyone has had Jarro Cafe’s primera salsas before, you know this is a really big deal.
Tacorrey will be serving tacos al vapor (steamed tacos) for our arrival. These are something special.
I’ve learned that tortilla factories aren’t really big on letting 90+ people tour their establishment, and Columbian security guards are kind of pushy when you approach their trucking facility. (I’ll work on it.)
Connie’s on Airline says they can handle 90+ visitors on any Sunday for a michelada stop. I have no idea how this would logistically work, because I’ve been there on Sunday and can barely get in the door. But hey, the young lady said she was the manager. (I’ll work on it).
That’s right. A Taco Party Bus, outfitted with missile launchers and a Spy Hunter-style oil slick button on the dash and furnished with dancing girls. None of these things are true, but you should know that it holds 40 something people.
Want to skip the caravan and get a spot on the bus? Easy. Follow this step.
1. Register on 29-95.com and post a comment to this article. If you’re already registered, just post a comment. The bus seats go out to the first 40 commenters.
Bring cash (smaller bills are better), folding chairs, drinks, booze. If anyone’s got a big cooler, bring it along. Feel free to make margaritas, micheladas, go on with your bad self. Instead of keeping our beers in paper bags like the real caballeros surrounding us, plastic cups will be supplied so we can stand around like a couple of dorks.
If you haven’t signed up for Taco Truck Crawl #2, you need to RSVP with the Houston Chowhounds. If you have any trouble registering, just send me an email. The event will be free of charge, but you’ll be buying your own tacos, cheapskate.
Keep posted for more details, I’ll keep you in the loop!
On Friday, Houston Twitter user @aynsavoy dropped a simple suggestion:
“@GunsandTacos – Are you going to lead a taco truck crawl any time in the near future? Because I would totally be down.”
She may have been referencing last year’s Houston Chowhound event, where a large group of taco fanatics took a tour of several taco trucks on Long Point in a large caravan involving lawnchairs and beer. The Houston Chowhounds are a 500+ group of Houston foodies that schedule all kinds of food-related events.
Before I could reply (much), dozens of Twitter responses, emails and comments on my latest post on 29-95.com were thrown around. Houston food celebrity Jenny Wang (@imneverfull), prominent foodie blogger, founder of the Houston ChowHounds and recent radio personality on 1560′s new Southbound Food show thought it was a great idea as well, which pretty much sealed the deal.
30 people formally requested to sign up for updates to the taco crawl on the first day. Jenny formally assigned a hashtag of #TCC2 to reference the event. After some discussion, the event date was set for October 25th, 2009, which is on a Sunday (requested by Textile’s award-winning dessert chef Plinio Sandalio).
So how do I lead this expedition, following in the footsteps of the first Houston Taco Truck Crawl? The taco trucks chosen for the first epic adventure were loosely based on Robb Walsh’s Top Ten Taco Trucks list, diligently composed in 2007. There’s no telling how much blood, sweat and salsa went into composing that list, which I’ve referenced once or twice in previous posts.
My Houston area taco truck favorites span far and wide. It’s going to be tough choosing a few favorites and navigating a chosen path, a yellow adobe road of tacos- but hell, that’s what I do. If you’d like to participate in the event, you can sign up here or just email me and I’ll keep you updated on the details.
Click your heels together, folks. We’re going for a ride.
As I mentioned in a previous post, Vicente Fernandez is a star of epic proportions in Mexico.
If you’ve ever lost a woman to another man, or if someone has ever run over your dog, you may be able to relate to the sorrowful music of Vicente Fernandez.
While North Americans strive for individuality by listening to the same rebellious pop bands that commercials and sitcoms force them to listen to, Mexicans stick together no matter what.
Remember when Selena was killed? Millions of people were distraught in solidarity. People wept in the streets. Jennifer Lopez was catapulted into celebrity by playing her in a movie. Former Texas governor George W. declared April 16th as “Selena Day”. This was 1995.
I saw a Selena sticker on a truck just last week on the 610 loop, in 2009. And remember this:
Selena was from Texas, not Mexico.
Back to Vicente Fernandez.
Now- Jalisco, Mexico is to tacos what Hollywood, California is to celebrities.
Vicente Fernandez was born there.
Without getting into his life story, you’ve got to understand that this guy is Numero Uno in Mexico, and always has been. When he kicks off, you’ll probably see some kind of civil war. He could run for president and easily win- he’s more popular than all of the Mexican Presidents put together. He’s acted in 40 or so movies, and he could kick Elvis’ ass in a knifefight. I promise.
Anyhow, I’d like to share this music video of Vicente Fernandez with you. Although “Cente” (pronounced “Chen-tay”) is normally seen in a sombrero, this amazing video shows the man without a hat in his most vulnerable state, i.e, after he just lost a woman.
Before you click the play button, think “minimalism”. Forget all the fancy video effects. We’re talking about a man, drinking in a bar, and there is a horse in the bar.
Again, there is a horse in the bar. There is no dancing.
This is perhaps the manliest music video of all time.
Every once in a while in Texas, someone comes across an odd looking dog, shoots it, calls it a Chupacabra and gets famous for a few days. The most recent story comes from Blanco, Texas, and was posted on the front page of CNN.
I’m no taxonomist, but when I saw the picture, I knew exactly what it was. A Mexican Hairless, also known as a Xoloitzcuintli. A fitting name, because if you were to look at this disgusting hellion of a creature, that’s exactly what you’d name it. A friggin’ Xoloitzcuintli.
Why don't they feature caricatures of me in Disney Movies? Why?
These things have been running stray in Mexico since Aztecs were chopping off human heads in record numbers to satisfy the Sun God. That being said, it’s not too far off to call these things chupacabras, because if I saw one of these things sucking the life out of one of my goats, I think I’d just chalk it up as a supernatural creature, and blow up my goat with a guided missile of some sort.
I saw one at a horse ranch in Cozumel a few years ago. Some of the other tourists fed it their leftover tacos to my dismay, and one of them ACTUALLY LET THAT THING LICK HER FACE. I would pay good money for video footage of that, because I still don’t believe it myself.
If you reviewed that linked article I mentioned earlier, you can see LA folks dogging on us Texans for being dumb enough to believe in chupacabras in the comments section.
Which is fine with me, because they’re dumb enough to live in California where you can’t buy any guns to defend yourself against chupacabras, genius.
Anyhow, I thought I’d set up a little hoax of my own.
Blanco, TX is pretty close to San Antonio, so I went to Craigslist.com in San Antonio and posted a missing Mexican Hairless dog in Blanco just to see what became of it. I used this picture of a slightly more respectable-looking Xoloitzcuintli:
Yes, people own these as pets. People with allergies.
The first 2 responses were some kind of automated posts from “dog finders”, which are people that apparently have some kind of job finding lost dogs. Doesn’t sound very profitable. One of them was funny, but way too long to post. Here are some of the others:
“Hi I saw your ad on craiglist. Thier is a taxidermist in blanco that says he has chapurada. But it really looks like your dog. the story is ksat channel 12. Im not sure but maybe you should check it out. Hope this helps” – Casey & Penelope
What is chapurada, some kind of skin disorder?
“I know you might think I’m kidding, but a couple of days ago it was all over the news that the chupacabras was found dead in blanco, tx. The sad part is that the animal they showed looks just like your dog. Look it up on CNN.com I wish I was joking, but I’m really serious. http://sanantonio.craigslist.org/laf/1356613673.html
Dave
Did you catch that? He sent me a link to my own post. Thanks Dave!
Werid is the right word in this context, Simone. Thank you.
This person preferred to give me the horrible news over the phone:
if you have not located your dog please call me. Gloria 555-555-5555 The information may not be helpful but I do pray for your peace of mind. God bless
This one wasn’t entirely convinced, but still had the good nature to coldly inform me of my pet’s early demise at the hands of a taxidermy student:
is this a hoax?
anyhow there was a yahoo report yesterday about a chupacabra found in blanco, tx. pretty much looked just like that dog u posted a pic of. is dead and located at a taxidermy in blanco. do a yahoo search.
I hope these posts bring you as much guilty entertainment as they did for me. I’ll leave you with a photo of a taco truck with a chupacabra on it. Check back for updates on this post as more responses become available.
This is probably the coolest picture that has ever been taken in history.
I don’t always eat cheese, but when I do, I prefer Cacique.
If you’re familiar with barbacoa, you probably know that it’s really hit or miss. Barbacoa is one of the fattiest taco meats you can find, and when done right, it’s magnificent. When done wrong, it’s really awful.
A lot of folks consider barbacoa as breakfast taco fare. I’m not into breakfast tacos, but nothing in the world beats the tender, fatty texture and taste of this stuff when made correctly.
This delectable “head meat” comes right off of a bovine skull. If you’d like to see how it’s done, watch this video by Robb Walsh; an author, food critic, and Tex-Mex connoisseur who cooks this stuff in his back yard like a true caballero. In fact, if you look up “Tex-Mex” in the dictionary (Wikipedia) you’ll see him.
So, this Houston website 29-95.com had a little shindig at The Cellar Bar. 5o cent Lone Stars, they say. Starts at 7.
Well, I’m not one of those cats that goes all the way home, showers, and changes into street clothes. I’ll just show up and do my thing. Sometimes I’m glad I’m not a butcher.
So I showed up at about 5:15 with R.T. Martinez right behind me. I pulled into the parking lot, and saw something odd. All of these scantily-clad women started walking into the place.
“Over here, dumbass!”, Martinez yells. Turns out that the bar I’m going to shares a parking lot with The Diamond Club, a gentleman’s establishment. Since there were no cars in the parking lot, and I didn’t have enough meth or prescription medications on hand for a budget-minded evening at a tiddy bar, I chose to back up my car into an empty parking spot in the then-empty Cellar Bar parking lot.
The Cellar Bar wasn’t open yet, so we went across the street to The Velvet Melvin to kick back one or two before the Cellar Bar opened.
There was some kind of fashion shoot going on when I got back to the Cellar Bar. I’m not sure why they chose this particular establishment. I’m guessing it had something to do with the mirrored wall. Maybe they were going for some sort of Debbie Harry/Enter The Dragon thing. I walked in between the photographer and his subject on accident, and he was very polite about it.
I offered to strip down to my Homer Simpson underwear to help out, and he politely refused. He offered me his card, and I politely refused.
I hung out with the 29-95 crew for a while. What a great bunch of people! I drank 50 cent beers, made some new friends, and had a fantastic time.
The National Beer of Texas.
Then it was time to go. Everyone I had met that evening was on the back patio I had backed up to before. The difference was, now the parking lot was full of cars, and there was no way to get my giant boat of a car out of there without some serious engineering skills, or some kind of crane/hoist contraption.
I went to the patio and asked Joe Mathlete for a hand. He was happy to oblige, under the condition that I would agree to accompany The Mathletes on the hurdy-gurdy at their next show.
Joe Mathlete’s expertise, expounded by a team of engineering gurus on the Cellar Bar patio, assisted with an inch-by-inch extraction of my boat-car from the premises.
