#montalayo

[miltacos]

#186 Taco de montalayo (pancita de borrego en barbacoa).

BARBACOA BÁRCENAS LOS TRES CORDEROS, dentro del Mercado Josefa Ortiz de Domínguez "La Cruz", Calle 15 de Mayo, Colonia Centro, Santiago de Querétaro, Querétaro.

El Montalayo es un nombre genérico que se da en la región centro - Bajío de México a la panza de borrego rellena de vísceras cocidas, picadas y adobadas con adobo de chiles secos. La panza se cose y se cocina junto al borrego troceado y salado, envuelto en pencas de maguey y en un horno de piso hasta por 8 horas para obtener la barbacoa de borrego.

El sabor de esta versión era bueno, con las vísceras picadas en exceso casi al grado de pasta y con el adobo de chile secos muy burdo que durante la cocción se convirtió en una pasta rugosa y que se sentía mal integrada. Sin embargo el sabor era bueno y puede decirse que es un taco exitoso de montalayo queretano.

[chefgrivera]

Para este Domingo, empezar con una buena Barbacoa • Consomé • Montalayo de la Fam. Rodriguez en San Miguel de Allende #streetfood . . . . . #beautiful #foodgasm #foodporn #yumyum #montalayo #delicious #sharefood #love #foodpics #eat #gourmet #mexicanfood #taco #delicious #foodlovers #foodlove #consome #breakfast #gastronomía #truecooks #foodpics #tacos #barbacoa #beer (en Barbacoa Fam Rodriguez) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo66MkMnsBr/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1isc4of8a3yew

[amarilloaazul]

Montalayo

El 13 de Febrero de dos mil veintiuno, nació Montalayo. Junto con él, una hermana gemela que no sobrevivió al día siguiente, a pesar de ser físicamente más grande que él. Casi me tocó verlo nacer, casi. Me tocó agarrar su pequeño cuerpo aún bañado en placenta. Me dio un poco de asco pero no me importó. Era tan simpático con su pequeño tamaño. Sabía que lo lograría. 

Cada vez que lo cargaba, sentía el latido de su corazón en la mano izquierda. Era tan pequeño que cabía perfectamente en mis manos, que son pequeñas. 

Le puse Montalayo, porque es el nombre que se le da a unos tacos de panza de borrego. Me gustaba ir de vez en cuando al corral a abrazarlo. Me levantaba sólo para ver cómo se alimentaba de su madre. Pensé que crecería fuerte y eventualmente sería un taco de barbacoa. Seamos realistas: es el destino de los borregos criados en México. 

Hoy murió. Era tan pequeño que se atoró en el pesebre, en la noche cayó una helada y murió. Sigo pensando que debí bajar para ver si estaba bien. En cuánto tuve su cuerpo pequeño e inerte en mis manos, en mi surgió el deseo de calentarlo con mis manos. Pero ya era tarde, el latido de su corazón había abandonado el cuerpo de Montalayo. Lloré mucho, le pedí perdón, lo llamé mi amor, le dije que ayer estaba bien... lloré sobre él. 

Creo que ni cuando murió mi abuelo lloré tanto. 

Sin embargo, tuve la cabeza fría para sacar a Montalayo, hacer un hoyo en la tierra y enterrarlo. Ha sido difícil para mi, considerando que eran las nueve de la mañana y yo no había desayunado. Lo abracé por última vez. Cerré los párpados de sus ojitos. Acaricié sus orejas tan suaves. Lo acomodé con cariño en ese oscuro agujero y le eché tierra encima. Empapé mi sudadera con lágrimas.

Me parece un poco irreal. Pero así son los bebés borregos: la mayoría no sobrevive. Voy a extrañar ver a Montalayo mañana, ver que se queda quieto, ver cómo se acomoda para dormir, ver como chupa teta de su madre. 

Sobre todo, volver al sentir el latido de su corazón en mi mano izquierda, donde justamente, lo pegaba a mi corazón para sentirme un poco más viva. 

[lacocinadedonomar]

#Barbacoa #borrego #Pancita #consomé #méxico #rico #taste #LaCocinaDeDonOmar #foodie #followme #gastronomia #mexicanfood #gastromx #gourmet #youtuber #montalayo #obispo https://www.instagram.com/p/B6n4WW_g8X9/?igshid=l6jkkd17xjiu

[lordrei]

Ok I tried simplifying it down cause I didn't even mention my cousins or anything

Ok

Alright so mini context so that you know how I'm so close with everyone when they're a country away.

Up until about 5 years ago I'd live with my extended family every summer in Mexico. And 80% of my childhood memories are there. For the most part you'll hear about my dads side cause i stayed there most of the summer with the 2-3week exception where I'd stay at my mom's side.

Alright now for the stories

Dad's side-

Grandma:

1. My grandma doesn't have a thumb in one of her hands. I honestly still don't know how she lost it but she'd never tell me the same story. I always thought it was cool though, cause she still knew how to sew perfectly and taught me (even though I forgot by now).

2. So for more context my uncle's (grandma's brother and my aunt) neighbour us and they have like this weird little bottom floor balcony facing the street, kinda hard to explain. But basically it was around the end of summer and me and my bestie had a mini farewell picnic (i was around 8-9) at night and we hosted it there. My family usually sits outside the house and talk amongst each other while sitting in those white plastic chairs all the way until midnight. Well this one time this one very visibly drunk guy, maybe in his 50s starts walking down the street while we're having our picnic and we didn't really care. Until he stopped a few yrs in front of us and rambled to us that we were going to hell, to get closer to him an my and my bestie couldn't really leave. Ofc then my grandma, so badass and cool came out with a broom and started chasing him around and smacked him it several times until he quickly excited himself far away from us. We finished enjoying our little crackers with ham and shared some with grandma.

3. Me and my grandma had our very set schedule and these don't count as stories but just things I liked doing with her on a weekly basis

A. We got churros with orange juice on Sundays before we went to church the juice was always served in bags with a pretty straw and I never had to ask for her to bring me there

B. On Tuesday she gave me chore money and she'd take me to the market open that morning and we'd go to this stand that sold doll clothes, which was an obsession of mine. It was always 2 doll dresses and one pair of shoes.

C. We'd go on a bus each Thursday morning to go downtown and we always made a stop at a carnicería and she'd let me get two tacos of my choice. It was always montalayo or lengua.

Tia Linda:

My tia and my little cousin used to live with us until i was around 11(?) so i remember her in a different way. I see her like a second mom in some ways <3

1. When I was younger my mom always did these really tight ponytails before I'd be sent off to school. Which was why I enjoyed the few times a month my mom would have no time to do my hair so my aunt did my hair instead. Her ponytails were noticably looser, and didn't use an unhealthy amount of spray. So I enjoyed when she'd do it a bit more but I'll never tell my mom that.

2. One time we kinda got into a car crash while going back from a trip to my tia Adriana's house. It wasn't bad, but i was sitting in the back with no seatbelt so I hit my nose on the back window. My tia Linda didn't really know what to do to check if it was broken or such so she drew some little doodles on a piece of tape and stuck it on as a "temporary bandaid" i still have it somewhere in one of my notebooks.

Tia Alma:

She lives with my grandma and is probably my favorite family member. Ilhsm <3

1.  She showed us all the Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield spiderman movies on DVDs in the old 90s box tv in my dad's old room I also watched Hachi for the first time with her and we both cried together. Good times.

2. She didn't know how to drive, last time I visited for the summer my tia Linda started encouraging her to drive her white pickup. We were in the middle of some dirt road and then my aunt agreed to it under pressure. She sucked. Terribly. I was a bunny ride but I enjoyed every second of it  while my tia Linda was chastising her and how "she'd leave her in the middle of the road to walk if she damaged her truck"

3. She trained birds to sing. Not a profession or anything, my grandma just owns a lot of birds and my aunt would whistle around them every morning then give them fruit.

4. She got a pitbull and named her Paloma (popcorn in English) the dog mostly stayed in the backyard but she'd let her run around the house to chase my siblings into hiding. Paloma was incredibly friendly but also strong and my siblings hate dogs lol.

5. Because of her he semi owned stray cats and fed them whenever they roamed around the house. One of them Licho, was has ended up living like 2 decades. Strays are kinda seen as casual annoyances here because there's a lot but my aunt secretly loved him and the others a lot.

Tio Carlos:

He takes us to Mexico every time we go. Fun fact is that he has vitiligo.

1. Honestly I'm not as close to him as the rest of the my parent's siblings but that's only cause he works in Japan. He brings souvenirs to us all the time and he gives me his spare change. He was just cool but idk how to explain it.

Abuelito: unfortunately he passed away this year but he was really cool. He acted grumpy but he taught us little chants, songs and stuff

1. One of first memories involved trying to give him some candy after that I'd gotten from posadas (it's like a religious holiday taken place over December) and he said he didn't want any sweets. Then my grandma joked it was cause he was old and salty so he couldn't have sweets. In retalliation, he snatched my bag and telling her she was just projecting and quickly closed and locked the door of his room. Never got it back but I felt honored tbh.

2. He taught me how to make paper boats. We made some together and then placed them on an irrigation canal and let them float away. I forgot how to make them for years but one day i tried making them and it was like muscle memory

Others:

Ok so i wanted to make more detailed ones but my phone is still broken so typing has been a bit annoying. So I'll just go over the rest on my dad's side more quickly

*Tia Pilar: grandma's sister, strong af, made the best food, and gave me 60% of my gold earings.

*Tio Nestor: grandma's bro, lives next door. he called my siblings food nicknames. Not the cute stuff like "sweet pea" or "pumpkin", he'd always call my sibling (insert name) Dr pepper. My sister Concha (it's that one really popular pan dulce that you might have seen) and my brothers (insert name) French fires, or papaya

* Tia Gabi and Tia Lupe: I named my dolls after them lol. I only remember one thing about them that stands out and it's the fact that they were always besides eachother. Every picture they're in they're always besides eachother, every time I'd see them they were walking around together. I thought they were twins but apparently they're not.

*Carmen and her family: I already talked about our picnic. We were basically family. My mom apparently helped raise her older sister and i know most of her family. She had one closet that was literally stuffed with dolls, but mostly tiny pots.

She and I used to play like no one else. We used those toys to do everything,

1. We built a doll car out of these shouboxes and stuck what I'm pretty sure was a fake mp3 of Hannah Montana merch to work as the "car radio". Lots of fun

2. Another time her family took me to pick garanbullos out in the cerros. They're basically like cactus berries and i ended up filling the bucket with them.

3. We made a "mini pizza" out of dry breadcrumbs, chamoy, chocolate powder, and a few other things. It was a mess. It was something that should have never been made, we still ate it.

4. I had my first and only sleepover there.

Mom's side-

Mama Rebecca: she was possibly the biggest sweetheart. She makes the best chocolate milk and she'd usually work at the restaurant at the corner she is the sweet grandma stereotype except she's barely in her 60s

1. She gave me this one very specific book about fairy tales with problably the most memorable art style (i think i found it it might be maria pascual) . She read it to us whenever she wasn't out and about

2. She owned a duck shaped tree that her and my grandpa would trim

3. She bought me a straw hat with a sunflower on it and it's problably still in their closet since i forgot it there

Papa Jose: sweet fucking man iflhsm.

1.One time when i was 7 I drew a map of their house and and papa Jose came in and took a look at it and asked if I took one of his maps (he works in construction and stuff), I said that o drew it and he started talking about how talented I was. I don't think I've ever enjoyed so much praise, but I was def happy cause my mom always talked about him being such a talented artist.

2. he taught me how to dye water with these fluffy reddish flowers that grow in the fields out nearby and we made pinkish dye with it when I was 6

3. He told me he'd build a treehouse for me and my sibling on a tree they had in the yard while we were back home for school. Unfortunately, when we came back, there was a Strom that knocked that tree over. It still had the latter's so i was still happy he'd even out the effort to actually do it.

Tía Ceci: Mom's youngest sister only 6 years older than me so I kinda saw her as a cousin and i imagined that's what having and older sister felt like

1. She  showed one of those paranormal activity movies. We watched it in this small old laptop in her room and she lied and told us it was actually real. Us being tiny dumb shits, actually believed it and cried, but mostly my sibling. She definitely got a laugh out of that.

2. She used to have a boyfriend and would sneak out, telling us not to tell on her in exchange for tamarind candy. She owned this giant ass teddy bear her boyfriend gave her and we definitely stole it from her more than once.

3. She took me to her friend's house to pick tuna (another cactus fruit) off of her place. The tuna we picked had red stuff in it, Wich was just fruit, but she told us it was plant blood.

4. We set up tents out of umbrellas and blankets in her room. She told us about the two times she got stung by scorpions and how she almost died (they're pretty common there)

Tia Mariana: Maybe it was because it was further back then, but my tia Mariana was the embodiment of nthe 2010's in fashion. I didn't see her as often because she went off to college at the time. I idolized her alot cause she was in my opinion the smartest individual I knew.

1. A lot of times she just took me on walks to get icecream or look at empty houses. My mom's side lives in a much smaller town, no more than just over 600 ppl. So walks there were always nice.

2. She taught me how to draw several animals,  she bought me some cheap crayons which i lived and cherished till their end.

Tia Marisa: i didn't see her often either because she was off at work most of the day but I loved her too.

1. She owns the restaurant in the corner of the street and severe Gorditas around, I was always wierded out because it was rare for me to see anyone out who lived there but there were always a dozen people in there.

2. She gave me her guitar because she got a new one anyways. She taught me how to play the cucaracha.

I took care of her kid, who'd convince me to build dinosaurs with him out of rustyish screws and scraps of plastic.

3. We used to randomly talk about nothing in particular while sitting on the floor of the porch. I don't remember any conversations but one where she told me her mom, tia Mariana and her got into a fight when they were kids and my mom threw a rock at her. Typical stuff.

Tio Paco: my mom doesn't have have brothers, just this cousin who i only saw once but he toook me to ride one of his horses once so he deserves a spot.

people with big extended families that are all super close do u know how lucky you are. like this isn't a shame post to make u feel bad this is genuinely a soft reminder bc i know how easy it is to take something for granted when it's such a normalised part of your life, so this is me saying you're lucky. you're so so lucky. people who live near or with grandparents and adore them. people who laugh with their aunts and uncles. people whose first friends were their cousins and first memories are of them getting up to mischief. people whose families meet up for huge meals and parties that are loud and annoying and messy but fun and full of love and people you know really well even if it is your grandma's second husband's daughter. entire communities built around one last name. you're so fucking lucky, make sure to appreciate them <3

[caszam]

Hola!!!!!! KERENA ZAMUDIO DE ZAMUDIO Y CASIMIRO ZAMUDIO EN LA BARBACOA!!!!! GUSTAN???? (en El Montalayo - La Marina) https://www.instagram.com/p/CO8oY4uMbL2/?igshid=1bzefyevf0hsn

[toddlazarski]

Milwaukee’s Most Soulful Salsas

Shepherd Express

The most important decisions are made over salsa. Mostly, what to order to bed said salsa. But if you eat at enough Mexican restaurants, it also becomes indicative, Pavlov-style, of possibility, of that part of going out to eat, when you walk in, meet your party, get your jacket off, see what futbol is on on the corner TV, and just for presenting yourself upright, are offered a bowl, maybe some squirt bottles for variance, of spices and tomatoes, a synthetic marital collision of chiles, onion, garlic, and slow-cooked kitchen love whose combinations and intricacies and nuance can go in one million directions.    

At this point you can too. You can decide if you want a bubbly Jarritos to chase the salt. Or maybe you deserve a beer, a Bloody Maria. Maybe you're going to order an app, some queso fundido and go all in, risk a GI overtime infraction, the need for a nap, a sick day tomorrow. Or maybe it's time to scarf some mid workaday tacos and get back behind the mule. It's probably what ancestral bonfires were like, the center of making friends, where the most important can’t wait-stories are told, alliances arrived upon, when peace is made, with plans for the future - and the future meal - laid out, changed, made new again. Either way, it's a time of the communal, collective crackle of salty fried corn, bonding with the waitress, the ultimate arbiter of happiness, while hands are too busy, greasy to check phones, where compulsive shoveling of shards into mouths is accepted, expected.   

But how can something so comforting, so central and everyday, also be so thrilling? So endless? A rollercoaster with infinite possibilities, unheard of chiles, a taste glimpse of sunny southern nether regions, distant agrarian lands never to be seen, open enough to be an avenue for innovation, awash with a pique of capsaicin-induced adrenaline, a thrill, a whiff of danger, the need for more water and/or another bite.

Salsa is a Mexican restaurant's soul in microcosm, an instant indicator of quality and potential, the synopsis and the trailer, the opening band you remember better than the headliner the next day, the first impression that keeps popping up again and again. And if you eat at enough Mexican restaurants, you start to go to other types of restaurants, and wonder if they even care that you came: there you are staring at your compatriots dumbly, over a glass of water, maybe a bowl of bread if you're lucky, unsure of what to do with your hands.  

A restaurant welcome mat can and should hold so much more. Here are Milwaukee’s warmest and best.

10. C-Viche

The aji verde cumbia’s - like much of the menu here - over the dividing line between salsa and hot sauce. Coming as a side in a petite dish may hint towards the latter, but I often find myself treating it like gravy on Thanksgiving night, when I eventually take the entire boat back to my place, just looking for scraps of stuff to scoop it on, the topping becoming the scene stealer. DeNiro in Part 2. Especially here when there’s a plate of tacos on the table, and it swims through a particularly juicy bite of steak, yielding, basically, the fatty essence of life, kicked up a notch. It’s simple - serranos, mayo, lettuce, oil. And versatile - try it on eggs, salmon, beef, beef hearts, plantains, yucca. But forget for a second the most topograpically diverse menu on the southside. There really may be no better savory Milwaukee bite than a healthy spoon of the stuff souped atop the downhome earthiness of pork beans.     

9. Cafe Corazon

None of the Day of the Dead bric-a-brac, Loteria kitsch, or second location amidst gentrifying, ever-condo-erecting Bay View fosters thoughts of hardcore Mexican chile mixing. Yet Corazon surprises with a soulful scorcher of verde side salsa. The deceivingly gardeny green blend packages the potent punch of habaneros in a chilled, velvety concoction, rife with a pleasant, sneaking burn that can be felt near the base of the sinuses, a few bites eventually necessitating hat removal. It makes the warm salty chips sing, the chorizo too, in a crumbly-meets-creamy texture duet. It’s actually enough of a counterpart for soy chorizo - showing even tacos geared for the fitbit-ed Outpost crowd can pack some authentic Scoville scale oomph.

8. Taqueria Buenavista

Emulsification isn’t just a Food Network buzzword, it can also be inspiration for how to live a life: smooth, consistent, together, leaving them wanting more. Such is the taste equivalent when a fat, in this case, olive oil, is beaten together with something thinner, to blend into a thick banded team of viscosity. On paper it sounds more like chemistry than it does at the corner ‘Stallis taco shop, or rolling taco shop generally perched in front of Piggly Wiggly in Bay View. Here it feels like art, in an endlessly addictive, Magic Eye sort of gallery. The creamy jalapeno is a satisfying spruce for any of the greasy, neatly spiced, or sauced offerings - the birria particularly, with fallout from the stewed goat coalescing with salsa driblets on the wax paper, creating a finger-dipping sauce. Or, you can pretend to be civilized, leave it in the never big enough plastic cups for drizzling. Either way it’s one to ask for extras of, to bring home, to keep in the fridge for less than fortunate mealtimes of home cooking.   

7. La Salsa

See above. And see below. The creamed spicy verde sauce is a salsa about town - the ‘Milverine’ of chile pepper blends. Find it at random spots, either Taqueria Arandas location for instance, or popping up at whichever is your preferred truck on the Burnham and Windlake taco truck strip. La Salsa’s is a slightly spicier take on this puree of homogenized tongue tang, making it their own with, it seems, the fuller, spicier cousin of the jalapeno - the serrano. Either way, it’s still properly emblematic, in the way France has it’s Bechamel, it’s Hollandaise, of what should be known as Milwaukee’s sauce.  

6. El Canaveral

Currently in a holding pattern of salsa slingery, Canaveral expects to reopen sometime in May, only heightening anticipation for the return of their cadre of slick sauces, ushered swiftly upon seating, presented lovingly in a cascading half moon of ascending spice. Creamy emulsification is their game too - a jalapeno sits next to a habanero mix, like a significant other got an immersion blender for Christmas and won’t stop experimenting. There’s also a tomato and chipotle brew, bringing smoke and freshness to the lineup. Alternating such sauces atop an expansive, steaming, alambre plate - chorizo, steak, bacon, cilantro, onion, tomatoes, draped with melty cheese - is like the Dr. Seuss tale of all the places you can go. It’s a tortilla full of all the taste promise a meal can hold.

5. Guadalajara

The ever-friendly corner haunt has the basics and grandma’s dated kitchen table charm, and that might be all that is necessary to really appreciate the old spot. But, look deeper, and Guadalajara’s kitchen actually has the nouveau hipster proclivity toward specialization and obsession. Mainly, in the form of the chile de arbol. Sample seemingly each of the 30 thousand Scoville Heat Units (by comparison jalapenos top out at 8 thousand, serranos at 22 thousand) in the bistec en chile de arbol. Scraggly beef chunks swim in a dangerous, oily stew. It’s a DIY taco mix, to be amped to eleven by the upon-request salsa. Yes, arbol salsa - piquant and acidic and aptly blood-colored. You can slide back to garden fresh - on the grease of upper lip sweat and sinus drip - in the bowl of  jalapeno-y verde salsa. But there’s a reason the tongue heat doesn’t dissipate - look with a squint, through the tears, and, yes, there are tiny flecks of arbol just below the surface. There’s also a jar of the pepper in powdered form on every table. From a mortal taste perspective, pain is pleasure.

4. Carnitas Don Lucho

When I was little, I used to want to be a garbage man because they only worked one day a week. It not only was indicative of burgeoning laziness, but showed a lack of worldly perspective and a broader sense of reasoning. Such is the case with the weekend-only carnitas joint in the shadow of the Basilica of St. Josaphat. Just try the salsa de molcajete - the mortar and pestle grinding method that many Mexicans swear by -  and you realize a lifetime of work, prep, tinkering, perfecting is really therein. It’s a method akin to a well-seasoned pan, with ghosts of salsas past echoing in the basement. The result is an intensely deep-flavored, smoky, dangerously spicy sauce swimming with seeds. There’s also two standards, red and a green, equally bawdy, popping, onion-laced, thick and bold, clearly blended without a thought of volume-stretching water. Try any on the salty, fatty, lard-fried pork carnitas, the none-too-greasy chorizo, the  strangely sweet, marinated pastor, barbecued barbocoa, or slow stewed cochinita. Those with exceptional gastrointestinal fortitude may opt for the popular, singular Montalayo - Mexican haggis. Wrap in homemade tortillas, dunk with thick chips very recently fried, still sheeny, crackly and crumbly. Whatever the base, all three salsas showcase the behind the scenes work, letting it all come out on game day.  

3. La Michoacana Chicken Palace

For a town lousy with bars, there is a serious shortage of salsa bars. Enough so that on my first trip, feeling unfamiliar, unexpectant, upon placing my order and inquiring about salsa, I was told with a gesture to turn around. Suddenly “Dream Weaver” was blasting overhead and everything was in slo-mo. Life since hasn’t been the same. Chicken Palace’s name has changed through the years, but the grilled chicken remains, served best, and, most importantly, most dunkable, in a tlayuda - basically a crisped, fried quesadilla whose house takes on the texture of a piece of pizza crust. It’s a perfect canvass for a round robin, a speed dating of chile blends. Sample the habanero and onion pickled blend that harkens back to a personal discovery of the mix as a ubiquitous tabletop condiment in the Pitillal neighborhood of Puerto Vallarta. There’s the more familiar, localized creamy green sauce. There’s a pickled jalapeno number that’s like a ballsier version of a chunky pico de gallo. Throw in a fresh verde, a roasted verde, a fresh tomato, and almost as afterthought, the spicy king - a fiery, torch-red blend equally tangy and mean. The peripatetic beauty comes from not knowing what is what until you dive in. Even if a large man sitting adjacent to the station, looking very much like he knows a thing or two about the joint, offers, “the green one’s good.” Do you trust him?  A salsa bar is no place for the timid.   

2. Tsunami Taqueria y Mariscos

Every time I type or speak the name, I regret it immediately, out of fear my tiny Saturday sanctuary will be overrun with chile thrill seekers. But there is no denying this is the hidden gem not just of the west side taco trail, but of Milwaukee gastronomy. If you can snatch a seat you’ll be met immediately with a deceivingly complex tomato blend, sneakily spicy, bobbing with svelt chunks of avocado. Out of sheer familial generosity - all we did was show up - there’s a ceviche dip too. It’s more than enough to bridge the short wait to whatever you order - be it the city’s best chorizo, fish tacos, charcoal-grilled carbon, deep stewed desebrada. Whatever will be sided by two squeeze tubes: our creamy emulsified friend, here somehow a tad thicker, richer, definitely spicier, reeking of serrano’s; and an acidic burn dark red scorcher. Simply, from entry to gassy stumble out, with arm full of to-go salsas and a soothing horchata, it’s the kind of place that makes you want to showoff check-in on Facebook, that makes you want to tell the waitress these are the best tacos in town, even if she could care less, the kind that makes you sad the meal is over. You might find yourself counting workouts from this week, rationalizing how you maybe deserve another taco, a torta for a later night snack. If you’re this sort, remember even the pollo is an exceptional base.   

1.  Guanajuato

The fierce cult Bay View following that necessitated bigger digs seems to overshadow, overlook ‘GTO’s gross inconsistency, overrated carne asada, and an unfortunate insistence on defaulting to lettuce and tomatoes as toppings on a taco. But, love it or remain uncertain, there is simply no denying the bright red salsa. Even a mediocre organization can have a prodigy - look at the Bucks, look at the, gulp, Packers. The Giannis/Rodgers of salsas is at once perplexing and familiar -  it’s tomatoes, after all, nothing too exotic to identify, it’s only a touch spicy. But there is something undefinably, indelibly satisfying, something so bright and popping about the bursting gardeniness. The chunkiness is pleasing, but it’s also liquid enough to penetrate nether regions of tacos. The brace of onions, just this side too big, is balanced by bountiful flecks of cilantro. One would have to suspect a bounty of salt to arrive upon this level of mouth contentment, but it’s not evident. And what’s the point of playing taste Columbo? Really this is mostly word salad, akin to, well, a salad. A recipe with pics you’ll never get to taste. It underscores the Thelonious Monk/Martin Mull idea that writing about music is like dancing about architecture. Writing about salsa, something so visceral and Dionysian, is mostly pointless.

[doncalavera]

El borrego al estilo barbacoa con su montalayo quedo al punto. Feliz noche buena.

[orlizard]

No era lo que buscábamos pero si lo que necesitábamos. Taquito de montalayo. #mercadodelacruz #Queretarock #pornfood #México

[miltacos]

#277 Taco de Montalayo (pancita) de borrego (con adobo de chile pasilla)

Barbacoa La Palma (solo sábado y domingo) Prolongación La Palma 383-385, colonia Galindas, Santiago de Querétaro, Querétaro.

Montalayo, pancita o menudo de barbacoa sirven para nombrar prácticamente a la misma preparación: panza de borrego o carnero limpia a conciencia, y rellena con vísceras (hígado, corazón, bofe, buche, etc) cocidas, picadas y adobadas con adobos de diversos chiles molidos con especias y hierbas aromáticas. El estómago se cierra o se cose con hilo de algodón, para ser cocinada junto al resto de la carne en el sistema de barbacoa enterrada o de hoyo.

Esta versión queretana presenta un adobo de una mezcla de chiles (fundamentalmente pasilla y un porcentaje mínimo de mulato y ancho) que le confiere un sabor más profundo, ligeramente dulzón, aromático y terso, a diferencia de otras versiones elaboradas solamente con chile guajillo y especias. En este establecimiento agregan un poco de carne de costilla para hacer el taco abundante.

[fear--the--living]

#montalayo #tacos #superbueno 😝😛😋😜

[miltacos]

#276 Taco "campechano" de montalayo y barbacoa de borrego.

Barbacoa La Palma (solo sábado y domingo) Prolongación La Palma 383-385, colonia Galindas, Santiago de Querétaro, Querétaro.

El término campechano es un genérico para nombrar la combinación de dos y hasta tres elementos diversos de lo que una taquería ofrece. Dichos insumos mezclados pueden variar en cantidad, porcentajes y número ya que cada región tiene su propia versión y en muchos casos sostiene ser su creadora o epicentro creativo. Es curioso que en Campeche (tanto en la ciudad como la entidad federativa) su versión de tacos campechanos no combinen elementos como en el resto del país.

El caso es que un campechano deberá combinar un número de elementos reducido porque de lo contrario se convierte en taco surtido o mixto, que podría contener todos los elementos servidos en la taquería.

Esta versión es de barbacoa (costillar con parte magra y grasa) y montalayo o pancita. El adobo de chiles pasillas, anchos y mulatos mezclado con especias y hierbas aromáticas lo hace muy goloso y potente, mientras que la suculencia del trozo de costilla lo hace jugoso y terso. A destacar la sensación con la tortilla recién hecha de maíz nixtamalizado artesanalmente.

[miltacos]

#302 Taco de machito de borrego a la plancha.

Aguascalientes, Aguascalientes.

Los machitos son a la vez técnica y plato. Comúnmente en México trata de un envoltorio de vísceras cocidas que son envueltas con el intestino delgado para ser colocados en un espetón y cocinadas lentamente sobre las brasas hasta dorar la tripa por completo. Generalmente se sirve partido en trozos, acompañado de cebollas y chiles asados, y salsas rojas, y chiles piquín.

Unos dicen que es una clara herencia de los usos de Medio Oriente que fueron integrados a la alimentación del norte de México en las diversas migraciones, y que claramente se entreveraron en la cultura local hasta convertirse en un plato típico de la región.

Esta versión fue realizada con borrego ya que el comercio ofrecía barbacoa de borrego y para aprovechar las vísceras, además de la típica pancita o montalayo, se ofrecía machitos cocinados dentro del horno de barbacoa, que son partidos en trozos y finalmente planchados en comal hasta dorar por completo y servir en taco.

La versión es espectacular, de intenso sabor a borrego en barbacoa, con claras notas férricas de las vísceras y la sensación dorada del intestino delgado que cubrió las vísceras para cocinarse. La tortilla recién hecha aporta una ligereza al bocado único que es ideal complementarse con un toque de jugo de limón y salsa roja.

[miltacos]

#328 Taco de panza o pancita verde de borrego cocida en barbacoa de hoyo.

Barbacoa de hoyo "El Tawita" de jueves a domingo; Frente al Hospital Integral de Xicotepec de Juárez; Sobre Avenida Prolongación Zaragoza, Col. Mi Ranchito, Xicotepec de Juárez, Puebla. 

La panza, montalayo o pancita del borrego elaborada en barbacoa es una especialidad dentro de lo muy sofisticado que es la barbacoa como plato y método de cocción. Se trata de la panza del borrego bien lavada que se rellena con otras vísceras (generalmente hígado, riñones, corazón e intestinos) cocinadas, enfriadas y picadas. Los sazonados varían dependiendo de la región y de quien produce, pero es común encontrarla roja (elaborada con adobo de chile secos).

Es más escaso encontrar versiones verdes de panza de borrego en barbacoa, ya que se trata de un sazonado con base en clorofilas de algunas plantas, hierbas, verduras y chiles. Generalmente se realiza una salsa verde con chiles verdes, tomates verdes, cebolla, ajo, y verduras de hoja verde como espinaca, hojas de rábano, hojas de chile y acelgas que se muelen y cuelan para sazonar las vísceras antes de introducirlas a la panza y someterlas a cocción.

Es común que estas versiones sean sazonadas con hierbas aromáticas como menta o epazote que también son molidas en crudo y picadas para aumentar la coloración verde y mejorar la sazón final. Esta versión está sazonada solamente con una porción mínima de salsa verde pero intensa en epazote como aromático principal.

El bocado es muy delicado, gustoso, se perciben los trozos de las vísceras cocidas y picadas, el aroma a epazote es muy agradable y la sensación final del taco es de una buena presencia de colágeno, poca sebosidad y mucho sabor a borrego propio de la cocción.