5 Mario Tadeo Mateos Rodríguez PBPCDP - 3 years ago
Last week I gave a tour of Guanajuato as I’ve experienced it, and I devoted part of that post to my quest for good local tacos. One reader said my description made her doubt her longstanding aversion to tacos. That surprised me, because I can’t imagine having an aversion to tacos. But I sometimes forget that Americans eat tacos that are definitely not tacos by Mexican standards. And I think that’s a shame because it means people are missing out on a lot of amazing meals. So this week I’m taking it upon myself to be your taco ambassador. With pictures!
First let me describe what counted as “tacos” when I was a kid. Growing up white in Wisconsin, we stayed pretty close to baked chicken or baked pork chops or an occasional oven broiled steak. I don’t remember even having Chinese food till I was nine or so. So you can imagine that our tacos, when we had them, were far from adventurous.
But I also think many readers will find them familiar. My mom would start by putting ground hamburger meat into a big pan. As it cooked she mixed a packet of store-bought taco seasoning into it. (Actually, for all I know you mix the meat and seasoning first; I’ve never had the dubious distinction of authoring a batch of these tacos.) While that was browning up she would chop a head of lettuce, dice a few tomatoes, and if things were getting crazy maybe even dice an onion. When all this was done we’d shove it in into bright yellow “crispy” tortillas. I don’t think we even knew the word tortilla, we just said taco shells. The taco shells had been deep fried weeks before in a factory, and as I recall the packaging went to some lengths to make sure they weren’t all smashed to bits. Over these little Frito pockets we would shake shredded cheddar cheese, drizzle some jarred salsa and maybe even blob a little sour cream. Voila! C’est le tacos.
