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🍥 Tacos dorados de papa y carne desebrada😋
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#MexicanFoodRocks#BakingLove#HealthyFood#AsianFoodBlogger#DessertBox#BrunchIdeas#DessertStory#HealthyFoodDelivery#AsianFoodLove#cilantro#DessertMasters#BakingVideo#BestAsianFood#MorningBrunch#MexicanFood#HealthyFoodRecipe#GoForBrunch#SouthEastAsianFood#MexicanFoodLovers#FoodTruckLovers#FoodTruckFood#FoodTruck#black pepper#BrunchFood#HealthyFoodSharing#Brunching#BakingAddiction#DessertPics#DessertGram#FoodMexican
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2 RECETAS MEXICANAS CON 1 GUISO DE DESEBRADA SABROSO Y FACIL #recetas, #saludables, #recetasenergeticas, #diabeticos, #presionalta, #gastritis, #recetasaludables, AMIG@S LOS INVITO A VISITAR MI PAGINA DE MERCANCIA SI GUSTAN APOYARME SE LOS AGRADESCO MUCHO! AQUI ABAJO LES DEJO EL LINK ...
#CON#de#DESEBRADA#DIABETICOS#FÁCIL#gastritis#GUISO#MEXICANAS#presionalta#Recetas#recetasaludables#recetasenergeticas#sabroso#saludables
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El Herradero Mexican Restaurant
El Herradero Mexican Restaurant is a family owned restaurant, we offer Mexican dishes with 100% homemade-like flavors. Come in or order online & try our food.Address==> 1725 E Warm Springs Rd # 5, Las Vegas, NV 89119Email ==> [email protected]==> Mexican Food, Mexican restaurant, Comida MexicanaPhone Number ==> (702) 270-3444Website==> https://elherraderolv.com/Keywords==> Mexican food, food, comida autentica mexicana, comida de recetas de nuestros abuelitos, mexican, latin american cuisine, comida mexicana, mexican food near me, mexican restaurants near me, mexican restaurant nearby, mexican near me, mexican restaurant, taqueria near me, restaurant, tacos, las vegas, Fajitas Mixtas, Carne Asada con camarones, Chilaquiles con Huevo & Bistec, Res Fajitas, Carne Asada, Tilapia Soup, Camaron Fajitas, Pollo Marinado Fajitas, Chicken Fajitas,Tilapia con Camaron a La Parilla, Camarones a La Diabla, Camarones al Mojo de Ajo, Camarones Rancheros, Alambre, Camarones Rancheros, Bistec Ranchero Combo, Pollo en Crema con Chipotle, Chicken in Mole, Chicken in Mole, Chile Colorado, chile verde, Tilapia en Crema, Pollo en Crema, Chilaquiles con Huevo, Carne Deshebrada Huaraches, Al Pastor Huaraches, Pollo Huaraches, Asada Huarache, Chile Relleno, Pollo En Chipotle, Pollo A La Mexicana, Pollo en Salsa Verde & Queso, Menudo, Caldo De Res, Nachos Machos or Asada Fries, Filete de Pescado en Chipotle, Lengua Torta, Lengua Burrito, Grilled Chicken Salad, 2 Pieces Enchiladas, Grand Salad, Chicken Soup, 4 Taquitos, Huevos con Jamon, Huevos con Chorizo, Carnitas Quesadilla, Pollo Quesadilla, Asada Quesadilla, Carnitas Torta, Al Pastor Torta, Jamon Torta, Pollo Torta, Asada Torta, Burritos Vegetariano o Vegano, Carne Desebrada Burrito, Pollo Burrito, Carnitas Burrito, Asada Burrito, Huevos con Salsa Verde, Huevos A La Mexicana, Huevos Rancheros, Vegetables Quesadilla, Nachos Regulares, Jamon Burrito, Chorizo Burrito, Tocino Burrito, Chips, Guacamole, Sopa de Albondigas, Caldo Xochilt, Queso Quesadilla, Garden Salad, Sope, Frijoles con Queso Burrito, Sope, Mini Taco Served with Rice and Beans, Small Cheese Quesadilla with French Fries, Ham & Egg Served with Rice and Beans, Flan, Tamales
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The Best Bites of 2019
Shepherd Express
2019. The year before, hopefully. The prologue to 2020’s change, maybe. God or Kali or whomever you wish to charge with these sorts of responsibilities, willing. The end of the beginning of the end of discord, the endless fire, the storms and dread, the corruption of soul we’ve all learned to live with over the past few years that feel like a lifetime.
In Milwaukee, 2019 was the year we were rewarded the Democratic National Convention, and the year we immediately tried to grapple with how we would handle hosting the Democratic National Convention. It was the year, as if we were Austin, as if we were Portland, as if we were ourselves a plucky place of progressivism and forward-thinking, our very own food truck park opened. And, at the same time, it was the year it became impossible to log onto any social media without being inundated by hems and haws and shouting-at-cloud mewls that the city suddenly had legal electric scooters on the street. It was the year Syrian civil war refugees opened a Mitchell Street gem of kefta and baba ghanoush and good nature at the most destination-worthy restaurant in town. And it was the year a racially-charged acid attack occurred against a Latino man entering a southside taqueria. It was the year Sherman Phoenix rose, literally, out of the ashes of the 2016 Sherman Park riots. An opening that barely preceded Milwaukee becoming the first city to name racism a public health crisis.
For me, calorically, it was also a calendar stretch of one step up and one back. It was a time of too many fancy burgers, of swearing off fancy burgers, and then reading about The Diplomat’s Diplomac, and then the Birch & Butcher happy hour special, and then the other one with the ampersand (Glass & Griddle). It was the time of swearing off meat entirely, tempering that to limiting meat, trying to go “Impossible” meat, then realizing my daughter had never been to Sobelman’s. A frigid Monday, empty dining room, impossibly cheery waitress and a jalapeno and three cheese-smashed double patty was all that it took to fall back off the wagon. Or is it on the wagon? Either way, it was also the summer that felt like I spent half of, at least, inside a car with intermittently functioning AC, pit-sweating, contemplating which tiny to-go plastic container of bright green or dark red or burnt orange sauce to douse on yet another pastor taco. I ate at every taco truck in the city in ‘19, or tried, or got close, maybe. Out of curiosity. Out of assignment. But as much so out of moral obligation, as some kind of personal corrector to the current tenor of division, of strife, of unease. And as a reminder of comfort, of the spicy, dangerous, gaseous whiff of hope.
Here are some of the other ways I’ll remember ‘19.
13. Italian Beef - Rosati’s
I grew up in the hyper-regionally-specific sandwich heaven of Buffalo, NY. There a “beef on weck” order from near any corner bar or grocer or butcher will yield a horseradish-spiked roast beef stack piled within a crusty German baker concoction known as a kimmelweck—a roll topped with caraway seeds and coarse salt grains of the likes you might use on your sidewalk in February. Whether it’s a little bit drippy or dry, it will likely singe sinuses, bloviate with beefiness, finish with unnecessary and addictively enjoyable sodium-ness. Everywhere that isn’t there, you can find Western New York ex-pats gathered in some corner of some bar, Bills hatted, commiserating, whispering of favorites from places with foreign-sounding names like Schwabl’s, bemoaning the wonder of why it’s so hard. But there’s a difference between hard and unknown.
Here, Chicago’s Italian beef is another simple, but under-served regional sandwich delicacy. Offering even an apt representation of the au-jus-dripping bombs that can be found on every other corner in our big city neighbor to the south would be itself somehow singular. Rosati’s is a Chicago chain that serves just such a purpose.
Of course, aesthetically or on paper, there’s not much list-worthy about a soaked Italian hoagie roll, barely holding it’s earthy contents, leaking greasy debris all over wax paper like it was an old Saab who’s main attribute was character. But then you get closer: it’s a living sandwich form of a closeup on an Arby’s commercial, with infinite folds of beef wedged like an overfull linen closet, so bursting with folded towels you’re afraid to open the door. The thin rug of plasticky, half-melted mozz is optional. Though the glossy, shimmering hot giardiniera should be mandatory, with its oil-slickening and bright, peppy pickled punch.
But this is still a package of lizard brain enjoyment, of Ditka-esque machismo, with an essence and soul that is all two-fisted, garclicky pigout. It’s the perfect brown meal when you’ve had too many, when it’s too cold, when football is on, when it is followed by a slice of either thin or deep dish—both also apt Chicago representations here. Enjoy life and don’t be ashamed. You can love an Italian beef and still, later, after you swallow, sing along to “the Bears still suck.”
12. Sloppy Johnny - Boo Boo’s
A 6-buck price tag and a name that harkens cafeteria appetites and Adam Sandler jams doesn’t really inspire notions of much other than a nostalgic budget lunch.
But then you see one on the table in front of you, alongside the inspired rotating roster of obscure hot sauce bottles, and ideally next to a steaming bowl of creamy onion-cheddar soup. The sandwich, which derives from a New York City bodega specialty known as a chopped cheese, comes in a fresh-baked, beautiful baguette—crusty outside, pillowy inside—which houses barely visible meat, all the scrags seductively tucked under blankety rivulets of piping white cheddar and pickled peppers and rumors of mushrooms. While I used to come to this address for whiz-spattered ribeye, the Johnny is a bit perplexing in its polish. It is fat guy food all cleaned up, as button-down and put-together a presentation of chopped beef indulgence as might exist in town.
Giving the flat-topped package a second to cool off is the only challenge. Along with the lack of alcohol to wash it down, or assuage said wait. But there seems to be no other shortcomings to the lunch, or anything about the quirky, aggressively friendly spot that replaced and immediately made us all forget the Walker’s Point Philly Way. The sister biz of nextdoor Soup Brothers, Boo Boo’s shows the Milwaukee Soup Nazi’s comfort food flavor rigor and peculiar touch extends neatly to the realm of sandwiches.
11. Carbonara - Zarletti
It’s hard to balance summer in Milwaukee. There’s an at-once need to makeup for six months of living in a place where it hurts your lungs to breath natural air with an overwhelming roster of stuff to do. Of stuff to do outside. One solution might be doing something of calendar noteworthiness with a level of relaxed removal. For me I’ve found an annual tradition of attending Bastille Days’ nighttime 5K. Yet instead of stretching and putting on too-short shorts, I park myself at a table on Milwaukee Street, sip a Negroni, spoon roasted lamb and perperonata onto charry bread, and await a big, hearty pasta while watching the more ambitious sweatily charge toward a finish line and away from their true appetites.
Zarletti’s sidewalk cafe on a summer night can feel very European, very sophisticated, well-heeled. But the carbonara is at it’s core quite basic. Yes, it is the embodiment of those aspects of Roman food anyone recently back from the Old Country will annoy listeners with: simplicity, freshness. Egg, Pecorino Romano, garlic, onion. Here too there is a vomitorium-like abundance of sauteed pancetta. And a reminder of how that perfect deep bowl of al dente can somehow hit all the comfort points of all the different life epochs: childhood mac n’ cheesiness, first apartment spaghetti nights, that trip to Italy. And now, in the night’s growing darkness and fanfare, it’s a special new tradition to feel apart from the race, and part of a different one—finishing every last salty morsel of piggy meat before my stomach says to stop.
10. Tacos de carbon, desebrada, chorizo, pescado - El Tsunami
I’m not entirely sure the silky, sour creamy, Serrano-based light green emulsified salsa found about so many southside taquerias is homemade—such is the ubiquity. And, at this point in our relationship, I’ve gone too far to ask. So, I will continue to happily, ignorantly, scoop and spurt over every possible meatstuff served between National and the Airport, from 35th to the Lake.
Of these, the fare at El Tsunami holds a special sort of siren song sway, pulling me past La Canoa, away from my beloved Chicken Palace. In fact, of the two locations of Tsunami, this is the one without alcohol. And the fact it is still somehow preferred should be all the endorsement necessary. The petite counter-focused diner always feels like a happier, spicier Edward Hopper vision, especially with snow falling and cozy smoke plumes billowing about from the flattop that seems to be always full of approaching-happy meat.
In taco form, an order of carbon yields smoky, charcoal-forward, tiny-diced and juice-spurting nodules. The desebrada is a chocolatey, shreddy deep-stewed beef, with the depth and earthiness of the kind of thing grandma might cook when it’s cold out, when she hasn’t seen you in a while, when she got up real early, even by her standards, to start. The chorizo balances salty, greasy, satisfying pork bombast with foodie subtlety—what is that? Cinnamon? The pescado makes fish fries seem benign, lacking abundantly in tortillas and salsa.
There are other routes—the diablo sauce, a color only seen in dangerously fast and tiny sports cars, is a special coat for any fish dish. But it is the tacos, cilantro-y and satisfying, that remain the supreme vessel for green salsa dousing. And, either way, I’m leaving with some to go: a few containers of verde, just enough to carry a little Tsunami with me back home, to the fridge, enough to pull me through the far too many non-taqueria meals of life.
9. Any pizza - San Giorgio
Maybe it’s because I’m not a car guy, and get no thrill from “peeking under the hood,” and not enough of a cook to have much interest in “seeing how the sausage is made,” but I’ve never cared a great deal about the concept of “open kitchen.” They wear aprons, can handle industrial-grade pans, are comfortable working close to a flame—I get it.
But then I found myself for the first time at San Giorgio’s “pizza bar,” contemplating how beautiful a concept, how perfect a term, when I heard one pizzaiolo, upset about peel placement or arugula quantity or something or another say to the other, “I’ll kill you.” Huh, I thought. They really care.
While few inside the scene seem to put any stock in the VPN certification (the official delegation delineating true Neopolitan style pizza, regulating everything from oven type, to temp, to how much your dough balls must weigh—yes, it’s a bit ridiculous, and, yes, it’s a cost), all aspects of the pizza pedigree of San Giorgio show just such immense, aggressive, sure, threatening, pursuit of craft. In the Sopranos sense of the word, all ingredients, all dishes, seem to be worthy of respect.
Try the Quattro Formaggi, a delightfully oily meld of mozz, provola, fontina, and gorgonzola. Or the San Giorgio, bright with arugula and fennel, salty with crispy pancetta, topped, almost unnecessarily, somehow cohesively, with a sunny side egg. Pay plenty of appropriate focus on anything featuring San Marzano tomato carnage. As a gravy it goes well with anything from basil to spicy soppersata. As Instagrammable goopage, it is bright and popping, with no need of a filter, reminiscent of all things you picture of Italy in your mind.
It all still ties back to the beating heart. And by that, I mean the 900 degree Stefano Ferraro oven, hand-crafted, of course, in Italy. It is a muscular, room-dominating hulk, a ravishing blue-tiled beauty, fire-kissing, turning doughiness halfway to toast, letting the Maillard Effect do its enzyme action work, warming, blackening, making a messy marriage of tomato and cheese. Airy corpuscles form around the crust edge, yielding heartening bites of carb char. It is quick cooking, piping hot delivery for all satisfaction points. What pizza was for us as children, pizza can be for us again, here, downtown on a classy wine-soaked date night or pre-Giannis show.
On subsequent visits I’ve found myself, while pulling away the first slice, lifting the edge and checking the undercarriage to admire the cooking and note the sweet char. Each pizza pattern is unique from the last, like the spots on a Jaguar. So, maybe I am into looking under the hood afterall.
8. Burger - Foxfire
The last thing anyone needs from the internet is another burger list. Or even a list with burgers on them, ranked, in some kind of personal application of rules and regulations that strives toward objectivity, scientific method, a justification of juiciness pontificating.
Yet, in 2019 arriving on a listicle is the only validation. And the burger at Foxfire, served Thursday’s out of the back of Hawthorne Coffee, deserves to make listicles that aren’t even covering burgers. So, while Palomino griddles the best sit-down double-digit-dollar burger in town, and Kopp’s remains the heavyweight of gluttonous eat-in-your-car, American Graffitti old-school comfort and mouthfeel joy, Foxfire strikes the perfect balance between craft and simple. The double patty package is reasonably affordable, is cooked basically to temp, is coated with unfussy American cheese. But the availability is limited, enticingly so. It is topped with only pickle and onion. But the counter is suggestively stacked with esoteric hot sauces. It is what to have for workday lunch, generally, in a coffee shop. But the meat crust and luscious give are worthy of foodie discourse, elevated terms like elevated. The duality in a microcosm: the fries here are reminiscent of the stringy, crispy spuds found at McDonald’s; but they can be topped with little-seen Aleppo pepper.
My grandfather used to say that it is impossible to declare a “best,” that such distinction has to be qualified. He lived in the innocent era before internet lists. And, unfortunately, before being able to try the burger at Foxfire.
7. Chicken 65 and Garlic Naan - Cafe India
My wife often jokes that I only want to eat food in taco form. And they say all good jokes are based in truth. So it came in handy that my natural instinct for bread-as-vessel kicked in when, aggressively, irresponsibly, I ordered my Chicken 65 “extra hot” at the Bay View Cafe India. Within two fork bites it became clear something, anything, more than water, was needed to extinguish, to buffer, to assuage boiling buds. Garlic naan was handy, was originally used like a starchy tongue sponge, and then, somehow inspired, I packaged all subsequent chicken bites within the cozy, garlicky, craggy confines of the bendable bread. Thus my version of Indian tacos was born. Built out of necessity, maintained out of deliciousness.
The Chicken 65 has long been my Indian deep-menu go-to. Huge-bite, deep-fried chunks of tender boneless chicken, bathing in fiery, oily, red-orange stew chocked with hunks of pepper and onion and curry leaf. With its shimmering finish and intense afterburn, it’s a dish that often feels like a turmeric-laced Southern Indian version of Nashville chicken.
Apparently nobody really knows where the dish name came from—some claim the number just refers to the birth year. Others, to either the number of chile peppers or the number of pieces of chicken. It doesn’t matter, historians likely have just had too difficult a time stopping eating, or slurping water, or fanning the mouth. But now at least we all have documentation of the dawn of the Chicken 65 taco.
6. Chicken Shawarma, Kufta Kabob Sandwich - Pita Palace
Sometimes go-to’s are made by convenience, sometime laziness, maybe it's economics, every now and then it just comes from plain exceptional, ceaseless taste, of the kind you never tire of, week after week, appetite after appetite. When I became Iucky enough to stumble into a house purchase a pita toss from this sprawling Layton Ave chateau of Mediterranean comfort food, the “go-to” calculus began to spin endlessly, like a slowly turning vertical rotisserie.
From hummus to arayes to lentil soup, all of the counter service spot’s dishes ring true. But it’s the sandwich section that brings me back, never wears out, with cheap, voluminous meat torpedos nestled inside tender, stretchy shrak bread. They are made of tight, but ambitious construction, braced by pickle buttons, onion and tomato wedges. The chicken yields variable cubes and scrags of spitted meat, some crisp, some soft, velvety garlic sauce making the bundle swim, sing. Or there is the kufta kabob, two skewers-worth of beefy, grainy-textured links, slicked with creamy tahini, the whole deal rife with mint, parsley, sumac, and the kind of otherworldliness that you watch Bourdain for a taste of. Kick either up with a side of the piercing, pungent Thai chile garlic sauce, a sauce with a confrontationally acidic spice profile, a flavor reminiscent of little else at all, just this side of a manageable amount of mother-in-law spleen.
It’s the kind of place you spot from the air on approaches back to General Mitchell, a giant red neon glow of ‘Welcome Home;’ the kind of place your realtor might not mention, but you find it and know your property values will sustain, that it will also salve rote Mondays of yawns and kitchen ennui for years to come. It’s the kind of place you are endlessly happy to live near by, for when you don’t know what to cook, or, really, even when you do.
5. Xiao Long Bao Dumplings - Momo Mee
“Eat with care” the menu warns, an enticing challenge, like something you might find on a waiver from a restaurant you learned of from “Man vs. Food.” To me it reminds of an internet-learning wormhole of food blogs and Youtubes on where to find the Shanghai delicacy in a back alley shop in Chicago’s Chinatown. And then, more challengingly, more importantly, how to actually eat a dumpling filled with soup. As an experienced Xiao Long Bao taster—twice—I can state the process is mostly so: Put a drop of soy sauce in your soup spoon, lift the dumpling from the top, place in the spoon, nibble a tiny hole in the top as a steam valve, slurp some broth out, and then, when the temp feels right, shoot it like an oyster. Then you sit back and feel worldly, self-satisfied, sated.
But as long as you don’t puncture and spurt, or, really, as long as you “eat with care,” you are bound to end up happy, letting umami zest and warm salty pork wedges in hand-crafted dough baste the tongue. The disparity of eating this, here, in the base level of a building seemingly still warm from the factory, hits with the arrival of the steaming bamboo basket. Or, really, with the Schezuan wontons, or the Cantonese claypots—anything you can order amidst the plasticizing Walker’s Point condo sprawl. As the neighborhood loses its soul, it’s character, one more hastily constructed Millennial molehill at a time, Momo Mee more than holds the line.
4. Alambre - La Flamita
Certainly one of the buzziest events in town this winter would have to be a recent Ash Kitchen takeover, featuring James Beard-nominated Minnesota chef Jorge Guzman. The spot, an open hearth concept from Dan Jacobs and Dan Van Rite, is the new restaurant of the Iron Horse Hotel. The event spotlighted Mexican street food. Yes, at one of the priciest hotels in town. Black beans were $6; rice, a cool $5. And while probably delicious, probably well-intentioned, it sounds a bit like paying Fiserv prices to see a really great high school team: gimmicky at best, condescending at worst, and to any that spend time contemplating what and how we eat, a bit puzzling. If you want taco truck fare, why don’t you go to an actual taco truck?
That very same Sunday night anyone with the hankering could have taken a short cruise west, on National, and subjected their appetites to La Flamita’s weekly special of one-buck pastor tacos. Cut by a big man with a large knife, direct from the trompo—one of the few of the Lebanese-rooted vertical spits in town—greasy, salty, piggy turns of earthiness are spiked by pineapple hunks, upped by arbol salsa that pokes through each bite like it has something to prove. Or, even better, it being Sunday and a day of fun after all, you could have an alambre. Mix your pastor with asada and with chorizo and with gooping, melting queso, the whole thing congealing into a warm, grandmotherly embrace of a taco mix mash, everything punctuated by peppers and onions. Plopped on top is a steaming baked potato, because they want you to be happy, full.
It is the ideal meal for someone who can’t decide, yes, but also who wants it all, who won’t settle, who wants to soar, like Costanza on the wings of Pastrami, to an Epicurean taste fete of grease and meat sweat pleasure. But you can also stay comfortably on the street, barely 12 bucks in the hole, with leftovers certainly, alone in the car, beyond judging eyes or the formalities of waiters, to ponder life and appetite decisions, and wonder how many more you have room for.
3. Tlayuda - La Costena
If you have little kids you probably go to the Domes 300 times or so per year, or so it seems; and because it’s there, you probably go to Honeydip Donuts across the street maybe just a few times less. Heading south then, passing La Costena and it’s beckoning redness, the HGTV optics of an A-frame mini house-cum-taco truck is refreshing, promising in its cutesiness, alluring if only for the hope of something different.
And different it is. Start with a pastor, my personal barometer of a taqueria’s worth. So often simple scraps of salted pink pork do the trick, but here it is decidedly less piggy, moister, deeper, somehow more seasoned and cheffy. Or try the asada, a 100-level taco order, but here redolent of butcher freshness, liberal salt, flattop love. Really you can tell from “hola,” by the friendliness, by the slowness, by the perfectly-quoted wait times from the counter man: Costena may well be the premier taco truck in town.
Then, working your way through the menu, you get here, to a Mexican pizza, a NYC-slice-consistency, corn-shelled ship of salty flavor. The tlayuda is basically begging for you to take a picture, posturing with the bright allure of the flag of our neighbors to the south, popping with the reds of tomato and chipotle salsa, the greens of lettuce, avocado, the whites of queso, svelty sour cream, it all kept grounded by a swab of creamy refrieds, topped by a generous smattering of your carne of choice. Objectively, that choice should be chorizo, the grease-running ground sausage bits so rife with garlic, so equally charry and wet, that it makes any other kind of meat cover seem a bit tepid, a bit too-healthy.
And sometimes this is how traditions are born, out of a need to get a little person out of the house, out of a desire to let them sleep off dreams of cacti and sausage fruit trees from Namibia in the backseat while dad sates creeping hunger and insoluble curiosity. Such is the joy of family, when you realize even proximity to Sobelman’s, to Oscar’s, can be beat, by this, a whole new world of car-meal, of pizza-esque joy, of something different. Long live the Domes.
2. Brisket Burger, Hot Chicken Sandwich, Pimento Cheese, Cheese Curds - Palomino
It’s hard to keep track: Where are we all now on Palomino? Are we still mad they raised prices? Disappointed that it’s less bar and more restaurant? Stuck in a provincial mode that makes us yearn for cheap frozen tots and Bingo? Are we upset that they took a look in the mirror, didn’t coast, made an effort, and made their food much, much, much better? Or have we all just kind of forgotten it?
Maybe I shouldn’t question. Just appreciate the fact I can walk in on a Friday night at 8, find whatever table I want, or a spot at the bar, and order any one or combo of my favorite things to eat in Milwaukee.
There’s no better way to ruin an appetite and a doctor’s wishes than starting a feast with the curds. Elongated oblong bricks of a battered, sheeny shell, barely housing liquefying magma ooze, seem to get almost transported from fryer to wherever I’m sitting and leaning forward. Such is the temperature, the still oil-shimmering, post-bath promise. Stretchy and rich, airy and crispy, endlessly goopy, it’s a snack only matched in Southern-leaning decadence by the pimento cheese. This is piquant-popped velvetiness, the dream of what grown-up grilled cheese can embody, when plopped atop the accompanying charred toast.
It takes will, recklessness, irresponsibility to keep going at this point. The hot chicken thigh, barely saddled inside a buttery brioche, is helped by two things: greasy slicks of mayo and house hot sauce aid gullet passage; also the heft is constructed so that if you put it down, it might fall apart. One must push forth, in delicious punishment. Then there is the brisket burger. No other burger in town is so good at avoiding overtopping, overhyping, overpricing, a balance of kitchen art and pleasure. Like it is no big deal: fresh ground meat, American cheese, onion, pickle, silky mayo-y special sauce. Here is what it would feel like if you could sit down at a Bay View bar and eat a Kopp’s masterpiece sided by an IPA on a chill Friday night, where you can also remember your growth-spurt 16-year-old appetite, even while pushing 40.
If there were ever a case to be made for it being OK to find a rut, to never stray or explore, to find your caloric Cheers and never think about going anywhere else, Palomino would lead my argument.
1. Bahn Mi - Pho Hai Tuyet
There’s rarely a person that borrows my phone that doesn’t make the comment, the note: “You have a Pho Hai Tuyet app?” It’s there, near the front, proudly prominent, a bit out of place near Lyft and Instagram because it’s a by-the-airport dive in a converted fast food shack with endless out-of-commission fish tanks, and, for some reason, a stage. It is also known, has garnered a bit of a cult following for a fat guy sandwich of near-perfection. Or, it was, actually.
Pho hai shuttered quietly, but inevitably, to anyone who’s been recently, sometime between this past spring and the future of our discontent. Still there was shock to those of us who thought the sandwich would always be there: the big French baguette bed, crispy, succulent pork scrags, garlicky mayo, heaps of cilantro, crispy jalapeno punches.
To write about it hurts, like a eulogy, where you need to remember the bad and mix it with the strange to paint a picture. As it happens I have a friend who informed me that, once, while eating inside, he could hear something audibly scampering in the ceiling panels. Out of loyalty, out of sandwich-love, I practiced willful ignorance. I have another friend, a writer sort, who sports a Pho Hai polo shirt in his author bio pic. It seems like some sort of hipster ironicism, unless you know how much he loves—loved—the sandwich. And, really, what are we but not physical manifestations of our past meals and meal memories? A collection of those calories and reminisces.
Even as we look ahead, to more eating, to big city, big event pedigree, to maybe ending the national embarrassment, to 2020, to a promise of new vision, as we yearn for responsibility and reason, to, well, to... who knows? Whatever happens, whatever is next, I will never delete my Pho Hai Tuyet app.
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Hoy hice con mucho amor a mi familia quesadillas tipo empanada. 😋❤
Ingredientes que utilice...
*1 1/2 kg de masa puede ser preparada con harina de trigo nistamalizada o masa comprada.
*6 cucharadas de harina de arroz, o trigo *(yo uso de arroz porque así quedan más crujientes por fuera y blanditaa por dentro.
*2 cucharadas o 30 ml de aceite o manteca (yo use aceite).
*1 cucharada de polvos de hornear.
*1 1/2 cucharada de sal molida.
*Un poco de agua si es necesario.
Relleno:
*Queso Oaxa (yo utilice 1 y medio queso de los grandes de la marca LALA, de 400 g. use como 600 g. y me salieron 28 quesadillas.
Preparación:
Unir todos los ingredientes, amasar hasta que esté suave y ahora si podemos hacer las tortillas para poner el queso o guisado que gustes dentro, cerrar uniendo las dos orillas y presionar con un tenedor.
Freír a fuego medio alto, escurrir y listo.
Preparar una salsa de tomate y una le chuga picada para ponerlas sobre las quesadillas y quedan muy deliciosas.
Otros rellenos que podemos utilizar, picadillo, pollo desebraso, falda de res desebrada, frijolitos, puré de papa, o lo que tú quieras.
Una idea por si mañana no sabes que cocinar. 😊❤
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Burritos and Tacos By Perico's Tacos and Burritos Restaurant
Outline of Burritos and Tacos as an Authentic Mexican Food
Credible Burritos comprise of tortillas (at least 2) generally made out of slender flour moved around various fixings, for example, vegetables, meat and beans. With time, individuals began adding a redid fixing to upgrade the taste and fragrance. Tacos are like Burritos, however more modest in size. Normally, Burritos are treated as an appropriate dinner, while Tacos are eaten as tidbits.
Burritos and Tacos By Perico's Tacos and Burritos Restaurant
At Perico's Tacos and burritos café, you can discover blends of Tacos and burritos to fulfill your taste buds. We've been offering top notch credible Mexican tacos and burritos in Albuquerque since 1982. We've enrolled our menu things of tacos and burritos, with the goal that you may effectively pick your food as per your taste. The most amazing aspect is, all menu things are accessible at reasonable rates, so you don't need to stress over your pocket.
Burrito Dishes at Perico's
The following is a rundown of burrito blends that we're presently offering at our Mexican eatery:
Red Combination - Pork marinated in red chile, beans, and cheddar for $5.29
Green Combination - Pork marinated in green chile, beans, and cheddar for $5.29
Carne Desebrada - Shredded hamburger, beans, cheddar, red or green chile for $5.29
Chorizo - Mexican frankfurter, egg, cheddar, red or green chile for $5.29
Relleno - Chile Relleno, beans, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Bean - Bean, cheddar, red or green for $4.29
Fajita - Beef and guacamole for $5.29
Carne Adovada - Pork marinated in red chile, and cheddar for $5.29
Chicharron - Chicharrone, bean, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Veggie lover - Guacamole, sharp cream, lettuce, tomato, cheddar, beans, and rice for $4.99
Dads Cone Carne - Ground meat, potatoes, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Breakfast - Egg, potatoes, beans, cheddar, red or green for $4.99
Chicken - Chicken, beans, cheddar, red or green for $5.20
Tacos Dishes at Perico's
The following is a rundown of tacos blends that we're at present contribution at our Mexican café:
Tacos - Choice of meat, lettuce, cheddar, tomato, with salsa for $2.89
6-Pack of Tacos - Buy 5 get one free for $14.45
Cheap Taco Deals
We have an every day specials area at Perico's Tacos and Burritos, in which you can make the most of our extraordinary tacos and burritos dishes:
Burrito plate on each Monday for $9.59
Taco Salad on each Tuesday for $9.59
We additionally offer cooking administrations, in which you and your visitors can appreciate premium quality Mexican dishes, particularly tacos and burritos at a reasonable cost. In case you're arranging an occasion, do get in touch with us, and we will set our administration to your administrations.
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Burritos and Tacos By Perico's Tacos and Burritos Restaurant
Outline of Burritos and Tacos as an Authentic Mexican Food
Credible Burritos comprise of tortillas (at least 2) generally made out of slender flour moved around various fixings, for example, vegetables, meat and beans. With time, individuals began adding a redid fixing to upgrade the taste and fragrance. Tacos are like Burritos, however more modest in size. Normally, Burritos are treated as an appropriate dinner, while Tacos are eaten as tidbits.
Burritos and Tacos By Perico's Tacos and Burritos Restaurant
At Perico's Tacos and burritos café, you can discover blends of Tacos and burritos to fulfill your taste buds. We've been offering top notch credible Mexican tacos and burritos in Albuquerque since 1982. We've enrolled our menu things of tacos and burritos, with the goal that you may effectively pick your food as per your taste. The most amazing aspect is, all menu things are accessible at reasonable rates, so you don't need to stress over your pocket.
Burrito Dishes at Perico's
The following is a rundown of burrito blends that we're presently offering at our Mexican eatery:
Red Combination - Pork marinated in red chile, beans, and cheddar for $5.29
Green Combination - Pork marinated in green chile, beans, and cheddar for $5.29
Carne Desebrada - Shredded hamburger, beans, cheddar, red or green chile for $5.29
Chorizo - Mexican frankfurter, egg, cheddar, red or green chile for $5.29
Relleno - Chile Relleno, beans, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Bean - Bean, cheddar, red or green for $4.29
Fajita - Beef and guacamole for $5.29
Carne Adovada - Pork marinated in red chile, and cheddar for $5.29
Chicharron - Chicharrone, bean, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Veggie lover - Guacamole, sharp cream, lettuce, tomato, cheddar, beans, and rice for $4.99
Dads Cone Carne - Ground meat, potatoes, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Breakfast - Egg, potatoes, beans, cheddar, red or green for $4.99
Chicken - Chicken, beans, cheddar, red or green for $5.20
Tacos Dishes at Perico's
The following is a rundown of tacos blends that we're at present contribution at our Mexican café:
Tacos - Choice of meat, lettuce, cheddar, tomato, with salsa for $2.89
6-Pack of Tacos - Buy 5 get one free for $14.45
Best Burritos and Tacos
We have an every day specials area at Perico's Tacos and Burritos, in which you can make the most of our extraordinary tacos and burritos dishes:
Burrito plate on each Monday for $9.59
Taco Salad on each Tuesday for $9.59
We additionally offer cooking administrations, in which you and your visitors can appreciate premium quality Mexican dishes, particularly tacos and burritos at a reasonable cost. In case you're arranging an occasion, do get in touch with us, and we will set our administration to your administrations.
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Text
Burritos and Tacos By Perico's Tacos and Burritos Restaurant
Outline of Burritos and Tacos as an Authentic Mexican Food
Credible Burritos comprise of tortillas (at least 2) generally made out of slender flour moved around various fixings, for example, vegetables, meat and beans. With time, individuals began adding a redid fixing to upgrade the taste and fragrance. Tacos are like Burritos, however more modest in size. Normally, Burritos are treated as an appropriate dinner, while Tacos are eaten as tidbits.
Burritos and Tacos By Perico's Tacos and Burritos Restaurant
At Perico's Tacos and burritos café, you can discover blends of Tacos and burritos to fulfill your taste buds. We've been offering top notch credible Mexican tacos and burritos in Albuquerque since 1982. We've enrolled our menu things of tacos and burritos, with the goal that you may effectively pick your food as per your taste. The most amazing aspect is, all menu things are accessible at reasonable rates, so you don't need to stress over your pocket.
Burrito Dishes at Perico's
The following is a rundown of burrito blends that we're presently offering at our Mexican eatery:
Red Combination - Pork marinated in red chile, beans, and cheddar for $5.29
Green Combination - Pork marinated in green chile, beans, and cheddar for $5.29
Carne Desebrada - Shredded hamburger, beans, cheddar, red or green chile for $5.29
Chorizo - Mexican frankfurter, egg, cheddar, red or green chile for $5.29
Relleno - Chile Relleno, beans, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Bean - Bean, cheddar, red or green for $4.29
Fajita - Beef and guacamole for $5.29
Carne Adovada - Pork marinated in red chile, and cheddar for $5.29
Chicharron - Chicharrone, bean, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Veggie lover - Guacamole, sharp cream, lettuce, tomato, cheddar, beans, and rice for $4.99
Dads Cone Carne - Ground meat, potatoes, cheddar, red or green for $5.29
Breakfast - Egg, potatoes, beans, cheddar, red or green for $4.99
Chicken - Chicken, beans, cheddar, red or green for $5.20
Tacos Dishes at Perico's
The following is a rundown of tacos blends that we're at present contribution at our Mexican café:
Tacos - Choice of meat, lettuce, cheddar, tomato, with salsa for $2.89
6-Pack of Tacos - Buy 5 get one free for $14.45
Cheap Taco Deals
We have an every day specials area at Perico's Tacos and Burritos, in which you can make the most of our extraordinary tacos and burritos dishes:
Burrito plate on each Monday for $9.59
Taco Salad on each Tuesday for $9.59
We additionally offer cooking administrations, in which you and your visitors can appreciate premium quality Mexican dishes, particularly tacos and burritos at a reasonable cost. In case you're arranging an occasion, do get in touch with us, and we will set our administration to your administrations.
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Carne desebrada con arroz!! (at Oakland, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-59k5vDJ0dGH8RSKJ7KK7g_qmHH0B0jN9rZiQ0/?igshid=vw1b3wdsep3r
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Ricos tacos de carne de ternera cocinada y Desebrada..Busca la receta completa en mí canal de YouTube y Si te gusta dale a like suscríbete y activa la campanita para que te lleguen notificaciones de mis nuevos vídeos, y no olvides seguirme en mis redes sociales. Nos vemos en " Recetas sin fronteras". Siguenos tambien en : https://www.facebook.com/recetassinfronteras https://twitter.com/recetassinfront https://www.youtube.com/user/recetassinfronteras http://instagram.com/recetassinfronteras https://recetassinfronteras.tumblr.com Correo [email protected] #tacosdecarnemechada https://www.instagram.com/p/B6nQCfvoE5v/?igshid=k10iy310ydab
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TAQUITOS DORADOS KETO, FLAUTAS DE DESEBRADA CETOGÉNICA RECETAS MEXICANAS EN ESPAÑOL #recetas, #saludables, #recetasenergeticas, #diabeticos, #presionalta, #gastritis, #recetasaludables, DIETAKETO #FITFAMILIA #PINCHENANCY Y que cren!?!? Ya les tengo la receta de las flautas/taquitos que tanto me pedian con esta receta de tortillas ...
#cetogénica#de#DESEBRADA#DIABETICOS#DORADOS#en#Español#FITFAMILIA#FLAUTAS#gastritis#KETO#MEXICANAS#PINCHENANCY#presionalta#Recetas#recetasaludables#recetasenergeticas#saludables#TAQUITOS
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"Ropa Vieja" - carne desebrada para veganos
La receta de hoy es relativamente sencilla y el resultado final delicioso. Esta es una grandiosa alternativa al platillo típico conocido como ropa vieja hecha con vegetales y carne de res. Nuestro ingrediente Estrella será cascara de plátano maduro. Yo utilice las cáscaras de los 16 platanitos que use en la receta pasada de Quequitos de Plátano. Pero tú puedes comprar plátano maduro y utilizar de uno a dos cascaras. A continuación te compartimos los ingredientes.
Ingredientes:Dos cascaras de plátano maduro, agua para hervirlas, dos tomate bola maduros, una cebolla (yo use media blanca y media morada), chile morrón, cebollines, sal de mar, polvo de cebolla, orégano y comino al gusto.
Lo primero que hize fue poner el agua a hervir con un trozo de cebolla, , mientras lave los platanos en agua fria los parti por la mitad y retire la cascara la cual corte en tiras. Posteriormente las puse a hervir por 25 mins. Las deje reposar. Por otro lado, sofrei con un chorrito de aceite de coco la cebolla entera (use mitad morada, mitad blanca) un chile morrón, dos tomates, cebollines y sus tallos cortaditos. Sazone con sal, comino, orégano y polvo de cebolla sofreír por diez mins aprox. Añadir cascara de plátano ya hervida y permitir que se mezclen con el sofrito unos diez mins
. Finalmente añadir media taza del agua a con que hervimos la cascara y dejar que evapore la mayoría. Poner un poco de cilantro picado al gusto y servir.
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Discovering Alambres in Milwaukee
Shepherd Express
Beef or pork? Tripa? What about lengua? I can’t live without at least trying every chorizo presented to me. And with any decent Mexican restaurant even pollo should be on the table for discussion—hinting at the biggest problem within the greatest, highest-varietal world cuisine: What do you order when you want everything?
Anyone with the maybe embarrassing experience of eating out with me at a proper Mexican spot has probably witnessed, with some gastrointestinal wonder, or maybe a guffaw, a personal solution to the conundrum. It is what I’ve long deemed the “entree-plus” method. What you do is order, say, a torta dinner, but then, politely holding your finger up to indicate to the waitress you are not yet done with your wish list, also ask for a couple of tacos. For the side. Maybe get the shrimp diablo, and team it with a simple desebrada number. Try the bistec ranchero, but with a sidecar of cecina. Possibilities become endless, but within, the basic premise is simple: to run the meat gamut, as much as possible, exponentially increase your lipid-and-sauce variations, skip the fear of missing out, make lunch a cultural deep dive, in the process achieving your Epicurean best self, spinning life into a fete of curiosity, not restraint, and turning the table into one of those fashionably messy, rustic Bon Appetit cover photo shoots.
But what if the answer to the ubiquitous meat question, with all the options, all the exotic-sounding proteins, is, more simply—in that annoying social media vernacular vain—“Yes, please!”
Enter the Mexico City specialty known as the Alambre. Spanish for “wire,” the word is indeed rooted in a meat combo cooked on a skewer. But it is a shish kabob in spirit only. In the real world it exists as a single plate amalgamation, a meat party, that is actually more like a sizzling late-night drunk skillet of all the most satisfying things found in the furthest crevices of the fridge. Among the multitude varietals, the basic offering mixes steak, chopped bacon, bell peppers, onions, melty cheese. Chorizo is a common contributor as well. Ham can sometimes be considered a healthy alternative—which tells you much about the nature of the dish. Avocado is also a usual suspect. But remember, as it tells itself every morning when looking in the mirror, that is good fat. A blank slate for Fieri-level exploration when sided by tortillas and some salsa, the alambre is a vessel of a DIY taco tour through a good Mexican grocery store.
My introduction came on 25th and Greenfield Avenue, where the sadly-shuttered El Canaveral once specialized in the plate. It is a meal that still exists like something out of Proust, the memory triggering hunger daydreams of winter nights spent hunkered over a posse of a meat pile, a craggy, cheesy sponge for their quintet of creamy salsas, each building on the last in hue, heat, and intensity. What was truly unique, in those Canaveral salad days, was I only felt the need to order one thing. One word, even, levied to the waitress, enough to hold all the Mexican meal promise one might reasonably ask for. I often bemoan the loss, wistfully ponder the empty husk of the handsome and cozy corner barroom, consider the death of all that smoking meat waft potential. But in loving pursuit of those bite memories, I set out to chronicle what remains, to capture at least a loose roadmap of Milwaukee’s best single-steaming-plate Mexican marriage of foodstuffs.
4. Kompali Taqueria
Maybe the most telling thing about restaurateurs Karlos Soriano and Paco Villar is how little, through maybe two dozen meals, I’ve ever found wrong with either of their two spots. First, they put too much pineapple on the pastor offering at Kompali, the new taco joint. Second, as a waitress once chastised me for a request, scolding, “I only have two hands!” it seems they can’t find great help at C-Viche. That is it. Everything else—from the aji verde sauce to the pork beans to the esquite to the pisco sours to the succulent beef hearts fit for even those squeamish about, “wait, this is heart?”—feels somehow in turns regional and personal, and like it’s been consummated with a sense of thoroughness and chile peppered-love. C-Viche is really just a couple of brunch misfires short of upholding my contention that it is maybe the most interesting, if not flat out best, restaurant in Milwaukee.
Which is to say their second, stripped down, taco and tequila-focused Brady Street replacement of Cemapazuchi is certain to deliver on the basics. And it does: from the distinctly salty, cumin-tinged, creamy tomato salsa that comes with the chips, to the smoky chipotle mayo-textured blend that comes with the tacos, it is a happy ideal of Mexican cooking that Cempazuchi only really seemed to be that one time on TV. They also personify an ideal starter alambre for the uninitiated—in prefab taco form. Diced carne asada tumbles uniformly with tender chopped ham and slightly crunchy bacon bits, everything topped with onion and bell pepper before being swathed in smooth goo queso and swaddled neatly inside a homemade tortilla. While the rest of the list here strive for something between gut burstage and a drunken munchie sate, this is a happy, reasonable start not only to an alambre tour, but to a night out. With little threat of overwhelming, without grease-bombing, with nary a worry as to not having room for more drinks, dessert. In fact maybe that’s a third complaint. Or it would be if I wasn’t so happy filling up with their housemade chorizo, the aforementioned pastor, etc.
3. Al Pastor
Despite the nachos and burritos and ‘Stallis zip code, the menu at Al Pastor does specifically promise “Mexico City style cuisine,” and alongside the eponymous pork stuff of taco dreams and the likes of bistec en chile de arbol, the alambre is presented, simply, honestly, as a “delicious combination.”
Thin folds of tender skirt steak, with prominent sear marks, generous seasoning and decent snap, dominant the taste swirl of the mashup plate. These are buoyed by bits of salty ham—some grilltop-blackened, some fleshy; tiny granules of charred chorizo, lending a greasy beating heart to the whole; semi-charred wedges of red and green bell peppers; and bright Oaxacan cheese, half-melted throughout, gooping and draping everything like a tangled favorite blanket. Hunks of pineapple occasionally turn up too, contrasting the saltiness, lending some sweet bright sunshine, even to a barren block of Burnham in February.
It’s a richly savory meat sludge, all aspects breaking up under fork pressure, colliding, tussling, coming together in earthy, brackish bites, steaming and begging to be patted atop lightly griddled, sturdy flour tortillas. Ratchet everything up with a surprisingly zinging fresh jalapeno salsa, or a fiery vinegar-laced, arbol-based red. It’s emblematic of when food writers, like sportwriters, feel the need for that old adage of the package being greater than the sum of the parts. How else to describe the Giannis, Middleton, Bledsoe ball movement to open-three mindflow? The roll, the collective rhythm, the push and pull, the unexpectedness, the jazz, that extra-sensory unity. Like the Bucks, the alambre might be the one seed of Mexican cuisine. A “delicious combination” indeed.
2. La Flamita
It’s like a scene out of a movie: the know-everything writer, pushing big nerd glasses back up on the bridge of his cook-bookish nose, trying out a bit of show-off Spanish, placing a knowing order, within which to don worldliness, after which to scribe a wise pen-sermon full of clever phrases and expensive-sounding words, is stopped in his cocky tracks with a simple question— “What meat?” Yes, apparently you can improvise, personalize your alambre here at this white truck parked on 20th and National. And while such off-balance thinking has led to many problematic orders through the years, it’s clear this is a dish that could only be messed up by a vegetarian. This is the thought the man in the order window must have, half-heartedly agreeing, nodding, patiently waiting, as I audibly recite every possible roster variation that comes to mind, eventually arriving on an All-Star team of asada, pastor, and chorizo.
This is a to-go order of homogenized harmony, everything neatly, uniformly diced, melded, a goopy white cheese center holding the whole family together with the droopy, loving arms of a domineering grandmother. Nothing gets too far away, each bite seemingly packed with equal part onion and bell pepper hunks, velvety melty queso, and, in my iteration, craggly cow and greasy pork two different ways. Ignore the rote verde salsa in lieu of a truly mean-spirited, arbol-centered sauce. It lends a bit of heated vitality, vigor throughout all that togetherness. This eye-opening feel is furthered by full exploration of the bag. That tin-foiled brick down there isn’t more tortillas. It is a steaming baked potato. Soft, starchy, you can neatly crumble it atop the meat mix, or maybe refry a bit for next-morning eggs. Either way, it’s happily sponge-like, more salsa-soaking than french fries, and turns out to be an ingenious little carb-y loaf addition to the big styrofoam protein package. It’s also another surprising glimpse of the peripatetic nature of taco trucking—the road is a mighty teacher.
1. La Guelaguetza
The most delightfully-named taqueria in the city—the truck on 15th and Burnham takes its handle from an annual indigenous cultural festival in Oaxaca—has a handy translation placard for available meats: “lengua” is “tongue,” “cabeza” is “head,” “Alambres” is… “Alambres.” Meaning, seemingly, that there is no translation. As in, if you don’t speak the language, you won’t get it. It reminds me of a time a well-meaning prankster member of my Mexican in-law tribe tried to let me in on the ultimate Spanish cuss, the one to use if anybody is really giving you a hard time. When I asked my wife to explain what it meant, I didn’t think the translation sounded so offensive. Until, later, at one of those extended relative gatherings, when, backed into a corner, being mocked for my broken espanol, fumbling for a face-saving zinger, I let the unmentionable phrase slip in front of an abuela, a tia, and a gaggle of cousins. All eyes on me, mouths aghast in collective terror and befuddlement, with crickets suddenly echoing around the awkward silence, it was like Lenny Bruce joking about Adolf Hitler. I haven’t been invited to a family funeral since.
What can’t be lost or misconstrued in translation is taste. So if you stumble through the three-syllables, you will be rewarded with an alambre of crispy asada, tender pastor from a bulbous stationary vertical spit of seasoned pork, and bacon wedges in varying levels of doneness. The multitude meat stuffs exist in loose, pepper-inflected affiliation, messily inconsistent chops leave incongruous bites—some onion-y, some gooey, all meaty and salty and dense. Such variety is the spice of life, as they say. Which is not true. Salsa is the spice of life. And the rojo here is blood red and angrily smoky, thick enough to hold its own on the mass, spicy but short of overpowering, so that the massive container of chopped, pickled habanero and onion sitting on the counter should still be utilized. Though, in the spirit of those male enhancement drug disclaimers, maybe consult with a doctor if there is any history of heart problems. A crumbly baked papa also sits atop the two-meal mash. And by now, it feels like, why not? It’s a spongy starch addition that is better to soak it up—the debris, the salty carnage, all the messy drip of life itself. Piquant, earthy, foreign, comforting, a concentrated slop of intricacy and nuance, the whole thing is really a beautiful sense bastardization, an amalgamation that only leaves trace amounts of grease guilt.
Sometimes saying things you don’t understand really pays off.
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SANDWICH DE RES DESEBRADA / HOW TO MAKE BEEF SANDWICH / COMO HACER SANDW...
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Tostadas de carne desebrada
Tostadas de carne desebrada ropa vieja
Disfruta de deliciosas recetas cada semana video Lunes , Miércoles y Viernes recetas faciles que podrás llevar a tu mesa y sobre todo faciles de elaborar y económicas uno que otro en vivo realizado recetas paso a paso de la manera mas facil =) los espero Read the full article
#armandoentucocina#recetadecarnedeshebrada#ropavieja#salpicon#tostadasconfrijoles#tostadasdecarnederes#tostadasdecarnedesebrada#tostadasdecarnedeshebrada#tostadasdetinga
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