I don’t recall how I came across St. Tacos. I do know that from the McKinney taqueria’s Facebook photos, I needed to hightail it north on U.S. 75 at my first opportunity. The pictures showed a trompo, a spread of tacos and salsas so delightfully colorful you could read by them, not to mention the painted roads on St. Tacos’ floor.

Would the journey to St. Tacos end in a reward of cochinita so spot-on the achiote and sour oranges mistook the sides of my mouth for boxing gym punching bags? If I made my way to St. Tacos, would I be welcomed with pork sliced off a trompo like a casino card dealer’s flicks cards to the poor suckers with high expectations? Would the pork bear a protective, happy crust from its slow dance on the trompo and bear evidence of chile and citrus wrap? What of the barbacoa? Would it coat my stomach with stale canola oil?

The answer to the latter questions is a resounding “No!” The rest needs some explaining. St. Tacos’ barbacoa is a solid take on the classic preparation. It’s lean without losing body. There is no excess grease. It’s tried-and-true barbacoa through and through. The cochinita gets high marks for being the pugilist I hoped it would be. During my conversation with Eduardo Muensch, St. Tacos’ owner, the Mexico City native revealed how he prepared his cochinita (extended marinating isn’t involved) and where he learned the recipe (Merida, Yucatan). The bistec wasn’t pulverized, a travesty all too common in many area taquerias.

He explained why I, someone with a rare Catalonian paternal surname, had difficulty pronouncing his surname (it’s Miench.) And as it turns out, Muensch’s great grandfather volunteered to move from Syracuse, New York, to Mexico City, in 1898, for family business. The enterprise, Muensch told me, was candle manufacturing. “They shipped large amounts of church candles and votive lights (similar to what we know today as tea-lights) to Mexico for use in churches obviously, and in miner’s lamps, which were as much needed for lighting as they were a critical safety device, since oxygen is needed for the flame to burn. If the candles went out, the miners knew to get out of the mine.” That the family business involved miners in the late 19^th century is auspicious. The first “tacos” or the food that we now call tacos were eaten by miners and were dubbed taco de mineros (miners’ tacos), after the explosives wrapped in a paper (known as a taco). Evidence suggests these original iterations were actually tacos de canaste (tacos steamed via their own vapor in a basket or other vessel).

Grandpa Muensch, as the man was eventually called, was 21 and single when he emigrated to Mexico. Porfirio Diaz was president. And, Muensch told me, his great-grandfather was to manage “the first candle factory ever built anywhere in Mexico.” He never left.

We talked about the mellow and sweet lengua a la veracruzana, given a gossamer blanket of tomato. We chatted about the trompo. Muensch explained why when I entered his taqueria, the vertical rotisserie was dormant and bearing a thin shaft of dried pork. St. Tacos isn’t busy enough yet to allow the al pastor to turn on the spit without ruining it, so it’s sliced on the trompo in the morning and stored for use throughout the day. Unfortunately, the pork in my taco al pastor was on the dry side. There was plenty of promise in each bite, though. The adobo used to season the pork was clean and tangy with hints of chile. This could be great pastor, if only more people ate at St. Tacos. With excellent lengua and cochinita pibil as well as good barbacoa and no-nonsense bistec, you have every reason to check out St. Tacos. Muensch recommends visiting Friday and Saturday mornings for the best chances at fresh tacos de trompo. And, in case you’re wondering, it’s Street not Saint Tacos, though Muensch won’t correct you. He likes it.

I like where St. Tacos is going.

On two consecutive days I found myself in Richardson. And two consecutive days, I left two taquerias with a skip in my step and a smile on my face. The second, La Candelaria—named after the religious holiday marking the end of the Christmas season in Mexico and commemorating the presentation of the infant Jesus at the temple—is tucked into a corner of a shopping center anchored by a large supermarket. But I only noticed that on the way out. So fixed I was on getting my mitts around the restaurant’s handmade tortillas on the independent recommendation of two friends.

The L-shaped taqueria was dark, even in the middle of the day, when I walked up to the counter and ordered one of almost everything (they were out of pancita [stomach, guts]).

There was only awful taco that day at La Candelaria—the hongos. The rubbery collection of sliced mushrooms was fresh from an aluminum culinary coffin. I caught the owner clearing tables and asked about the cabeza.  The cachete, or cheek, was a tad too fatty for his tastes, but that he liked it all the same. (Of course he did.) If it needed less fat—which it didn’t; the cabeza was the leanest I’ve had in Dallas-Fort Worth—the cheek meat needed more seasoning. A net of iridescent fat would’ve provided.

In contrast, the chicken was juicy with browned edges and corners, a relief from the plethora of abysmal chicken tacos I usually encounter. The chivo was smooth with mellow gaminess, like a friendly, reaffirming pat on the cheek.

While the pastor wasn’t cooked on a trompo and included chunks of gristle, it did have a pleasant char as well as mild flavor from the coating of achiote, chiles and citrus. A taco de nopal, filled with a sliced cactus pad that were a touch slimy and dotted with white onions had an unexpected throw pillow’s whack to the cheek imparted by vinegar, which when you include the chicken and the rough, sweet handmade tortillas sums up Taqueria La Candelaria nicely, a bright, punchy spot to the north.

Wow. Wow again. You made the first North Texas Taco Festival a success beyond our wildest expectations. Thank you, and thank you for the feedback on our inaugural taco celebration. A special thanks to the vendors, special guests and all who made the NTTF a fantastic event. The producing team promises to make the second annual NTTF even better, with more vendors and shorter lines. Before then, though, take a look-see at some photos from Taco Trail’s design honcho, Alex Flores.

Credit: Stuart Mullenberg

Authors note: I wrote the backpage “Quench” essay for Imbibe Magazine’s Texas issue, the first issue dedicated to the drink culture of a single state. My contribution explores taco and beer pairings. To read more from the issue click here.

After my wife and son, I have two great loves—tacos and beer. For my food blog, Taco Trail, I’ve eaten at hundreds of taquerías and Mexican restaurants in my adopted hometown of Dallas and across the United States. Meanwhile, I’ve logged countless hours at beer bars and craft breweries.

Texas is the land of the San Antonio puffy taco, the breakfast taco, and the fried-to-order crispy taco, known as the taco dorado south of the border. In the Lone Star State, tacos stuffed with lengua, suadero, barbacoa, carnitas and other fillings are sold in gas stations, from walk-up windows, from kiosks, in check-cashing shops,  everywhere. And if you insult another Texan’s favorite taco spot, by saying something like, “Fuel City tacos are trash,” you’re spoiling for a fight. Texans are sensitive about their tacos. Yet somehow—in Texas, at least—craft beer isn’t typically found in the best taco joints. While the craft beer movement has been steadily gaining traction in Texas, the last few years have seen a major growth in markets like Dallas. Last December, in a public ceremony complete with bridesmaids and groomsmen, a local cheesemonger even married a beer (Peticolas’ imperial red ale, Velvet Hammer, which is admittedly a great catch). So in an effort to bring the best of Texas tacos and beer together, I’ve begun creating my own beer and taco pairing rules. When I chomp an earthy taco de trompo—a chile- and achiote-marinated pork slowly roasted on a vertical rotisserie, shaved and studded with pineapple—I aim for an India pale ale with a citrusy punch, like my city’s own Deep Ellum IPA. Their brisk, acidic DNAs are a precise match.

When I go for a panko-crusted fish taco dressed with bright aioli from So-Cal Tacos—one of the best taco trucks around—I get it wrapped, and then I bolt to find the nearest growler of the award-winning Peticolas Royal Scandal, a crisp English-style pale ale brewed in Dallas. And the aforementioned Velvet Hammer, a sneaky, smooth red ale with a sturdy 9 percent ABV, is a perfect match for guisado verde, a signature taco at North Dallas’ La Nueva Fresh & Hot, with stewed pork doused in a combustible green sauce and wrapped in a housemade corn tortilla. If I could transport that taco outside Dallas, wherever I roam, I’d match it with a carousel of Texas suds: Real Ale’s hoppy Four Squared, Saint Arnold’s snappy Endeavor double IPA, and Jester King Craft Brewery’s nimble table beer Le Petit Prince.

While I’m in Austin visiting Jester King, I’d pair the brewery’s Mikkeller collaboration, Beer Geek Rodeo—a roasty, chipotle-steeped imperial oatmeal stout—with a sirloin taco drenched in Tacodeli’s zippy mole. And I can’t help but daydream about Ranger Creek’s Mesquite Smoked Porter, from San Antonio, alongside a traditionally smoked beef barbacoa (usually a whole cow head, smoked underground) threaded with earth-scented fat in a fresh, handmade tortilla, because, like smoke and meat, tacos and beer go hand in hand.

My hands will take hold of each somewhere soon. I’m dedicated to organizing a taco and beer pairing dinner in the Dallas area, even if I have to do it at my house with the aid of a local taco truck and a couple of kegs of hometown beer.

Dallas’ best potato and egg taco is found along Singleton Avenue, near the Trinity Groves. And I’m concerned it’s not long for this world. Until, a friend and I decided to try our luck with lunch at Taquería La Chilanga, the red, yellow, orange and white freestanding taquería at the foot of the Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge, I’d not seen it open for business for months. I had thought it had already fallen victim to the restaurant concepts taking up the development led by uber-restaurateur Phil Romano and partners, at the eatery’s doorstep.

What we found wasn’t a gem but a solid operation making its own corn and flour tortillas by hand, a taquería that deserves constant business.

Lunch was every taco available—a total of seven—on tortillas de maiz hechas a mano split between two customers. We were the only customers.

The tacos came on two plastic dishes, one pink, one red, among the selections were the aforementioned best potato and egg taco in town. The sweet corn tortilla barely contained the tight starch and egg mixture, and I ended up picking up and eating the bits of scrambled eggs at the end of our meal.

The fajita was the worst of the bunch, requiring thoughtful effort to tear off pieces of well-seasoned, overly chewy beef. The milanesa, breaded steak, was fine, while the barbacoa was an earthy bramble, neither lean or fat-choked. The chicken kept to the right side of the dry line. The brisket and picadillo were quickly swallowed up. The tacos de trompo, a Friday and Saturday special, had good heat but the pieces of pork al pastor weren’t sliced directly from the trompo. I watched as the co-owner reached into a container filled with pork re-marinating in the adobo—if they’d ever seen a trompo; benefit of the doubt, here—and place them on to the flattop griddle.

Still, my thoughts kept returning to the potato and egg. Yes, wrapped in a flour tortilla, the filling is a standard Tex-Mex breakfast taco style. However, the corn tortilla evoked the morning tacos of Mexico, such as tacos de canasta and the tacos casero frequently inhaled while rushing out the door. Can’t waste tortillas! And I don’t want La Chilanga to go to waste. It’s not the greatest taquería in town, but the restaurant, run by an elderly couple from Mexico City and San Luis Potosí, is better than average by far. The handmade tortillas make sure of that. Go. Support this taquería with your mouths and dollars. While you’re there, pick up some onions from the grocery produce section by the front door.

It all started with a photo message from Brandon Castillo. My friend, the executive director of the Deep Ellum Outdoor Market and co-producer of the North Texas Taco Festival, had sent me an image of a flyer with a trompo, the logo of the Saltillo, Mexico, soccer club, a map and words: Trompo Loco Highland Mart.

Our first attempt at eating at Trompo Loco was for naught. I arrived ahead of Brandon and found the blue corner building, a former bodega, closed with no sign of a lunch opening. We defaulted to Tacos La Banqueta, a short walk away. It wasn’t a bad move.

On recent weekend morning, I get another photo from Brandon, this one of a lone taco de trompo on blue-and-white checker paper. It was followed by a picture of a trompo, carmine-colored spinning top-shape hunk pork capped with the top half of a pineapple at the corner of Worth Street & North Carroll Avenue.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I finally had the opportunity to try the tacos at Trompo Loco Highland Mart. They incredible.

The two tacos de trompo I order had mild acidity but barely any kick. The pork had spots of char inside yellow corn tortillas crisped at the edges and bore a sheen from a quick rest in spot of oil and contact with the heat of the griddle. Nothing was tough. Nothing was overly greasy. Just incredible.

I could’ve gone with  a mixta or a gringa, a chicken taco or a hamburguesa—the tortas come highly recommended, too—but once I saw piratas were an option, my decision had been made.

Warm and substantial the flour tortilla held knots of bistec in a blanket of white cheese, creating a pirata, a taco style common in Northern Mexico, that was a salty, chewy treat.

I considered ordering more but decided to return on a Wednesday, when the shop offers a special of 20 tacos for $20. Twenty tacos de trompo of the caliber at Trompo Loco Highland Mart between a few friends is an excellent way to spend a hour in the middle of the week.

When I interviewed La Nueva Fresh & Hot Tortilleria owner Gloria Vazquez for my D Magazine Best Tacos in Dallas feature, I learned that not only has her family been making tortillas since the late 1960s in their home state of Zacatacas, Mexico, but that between she and her siblings the Vazquez clan owns and operates several Dallas-area tortilla factories.

In an email conversation, Vazquez said, “My father, Arcenio Vazquez Muñoz, opened the first Tortilleria in Rio Grande, Zacatecas, in 1968. Currently in Rio Grande there are six locations of which I am the owner of one, they are all still operating the same way they did when my father first opened them. There are [other] locations in the metroplex owned by my two brothers, which have been opened for nine years.” Aside from the Webb Chapel branch, there is a La Nueva Fresh & Hot in Lewisville but what of the other Vasquez family shops? Some of them do business under the name La Nueva Puntada.

Last weekend, my family and I stopped at the Duncanville location after a camping trip. We were filled with excitement and high expectation, and hungry. Like La Nueva Fresh & Hot, the La Nueva Puntada on Camp Wisdom Road isn’t a restaurant, which is contrary to what the website photo gallery led me to believe. Had junior not been drowsy and had our car not been stuffed with camping equipment, we would’ve eaten our tacos in the comfort of it. Instead we took the food home. That wasn’t the best decision. By the time we got home and opened our Styrofoam to-go containers, the tacos had cooled some.

The barbacoa de borrego (lamb barbacoa) was zapped of juices and lacked gaminess. The cachete de res (beef cheek) was an improved but not by much. A generous pour of kicking salsa roja helped, too. The salsa verde salvaged the lengua.

The asado with nopalitos and pork was an adequate guiso. It was straightforward and worthy of a second one.

The guisado de chicharron was among the better I’ve eaten in DFW, not too limp and retaining some of the salty crackling flavor typical of pork rinds. My favorite was the rajas con queso, a firm mass of poblanos and asadero cheese. While it wasn’t too spicy it did have some of the heat and smokiness I expect from rajas. The cheese added a pleasant saltiness.

La Nueva Puntada’s tortillas, made from Maseca and run through a machine that run the length of the open kitchen behind the counter were good. That much is true. However, they weren’t as spongy as those produce by its sister near Bachman Lake. When they cooled, the tortillas also became gummy.The generally poor quality of the tacos might be due to how late in the afternoon we had ordered them and that we had transported them in an air-conditioned car to our house approximately 20 minutes away.

There is also the business’ pedigree. I don’t think it’s unfair to expect more from other members of the Vazquez family. They have a solid reputation and decades of mastery. Perhaps I caught them on a bad day, a bad time. Thankfully, there are other locations. There’s even one near me in Oak Cliff. Will it also stock milk, eggs, cheeses, house-made salsas as well as tortillas de nopales? Will there be a hot box holding flour tortillas? And what about the bags of Tapatio-flavorited Doritos—are there more at the other branches? More importantly, will the Oak Cliff store be better?

After being unable to wait to find out, I went the next day. It’s excellent. On the weekends, customers can order irridiscent carnitas, frayed knots of fried pork at turns crunchy and smooth. The borrego is gamey. The rajas con queso just a little bit spicier. The lengua needed not augmenting. The guisado rojo was fantastic. But the taco that earned the status of excellence was the unassuming frijoles can queso. The simple envelope of fresh corn tortillas bearing smoky refried beans and salty asadero was the best taco I’ve in a while.

Breakfast in Texas means tacos, and breakfast has been on my mind a lot lately. So, I’d thought I’d offer my current top 10 places for the proper way to begin a day—anywhere, not just in the Lone Star State.

Taqueria La Salsa Verde
Although its appearance shows otherwise, the taquera working this Richardson gas-station counter claims the taco de cabeza (above) is prepared al vapor. Whatever its preparation, the taco is still excellent. Which is really all that matters to me first thing in the morning. The choriqueso is the cabeza’s equal. 14225 Coit Road, 972-330-0403

San Juanita
The chorizo and cheese at this South Congress shack offers buckshot heat in a large tortilla, giving any road trip a fiery start. 4406 S. Congress Ave., Austin, 512-443-9308

Cool & Hot
Not only does my favorite breakfast taco spot in North Texas serve barbacoa and chorizo that kicks appetites into full throttle, it’s also got character. It’s the whole package—handmade tortillas, included.

La Tejanita
Some of the finest gas station tacos in Dallas are found here. The morning lot are diminutive, savory and fueling, if you have cash. The barbacoa, chorizo and potato breakfast tacos are the ones to order here. 6769A Abrams Road, 214-348-9900

Tito’s Mexican Restaurant
The 35 breakfast tacos at this San Antonio institution range from the simple machacado to the complex house specialties like the Niles Favorite, packed with refried beans, cheese, bacon and avocado offering a motley collection of textures, mushy, crisp, with a little punch.

Tacodeli
My trips to Austin are failures without a meal at this small, 13-year-old chain. I go for the vaquero and the mole, made with locally sourced goodies and given an extra umph with that brilliant green salsa known simply as the Doña. (Yes, I love Tamale House, too. Who doesn’t?)

Good 2 Go Taco
A breakfast taco list with a Dallas slant is incomplete without this East Dallas delight. For me, it’s all about the southern-breakfast-in-a-taco SoCo. However, the customizable options are a solid choice. Go. It won’t be good. It’ll be great.

El Tacontento
Shimmering barbacoa and mild chorizo and egg get the day started right at this strip-mall Plano operation. They’re quick noshes that culminate in lingering smiles. 2380 E Park Blvd, Suite 416, Plano, 972-633-9795

Gordo’s Taqueria
This freestanding Oak Cliff taco hut makes the best potato and egg breakfast taco I’ve had in Dallas. 2324 W Illinois Ave., 214-337-0999

Los Torres Taqueria
Not breakfast tacos, per se, but a breakfast platter that comes with the soul-warming handmade flour tortillas characteristic of Sinaloa, the home of the owner. The eggs and chorizo are as one, as if the delectable result of a Star Trek transporter accident. Silky refried beans garnished with queso fresco are best slathered on the large tortillas splotched brownish-black from cooking before you apply the eggs and chorizo. Finish the antojito with a hit of salsa verde.

Courtesy Señor Locos

I’m fascinated by puffy tacos. So fascinated I went to San Antonio to eat my way through their history and plates of them. So, when I learned that a “San Antonio-style Tex-Mex icehouse” was open in Plano, I had to ask the owner if he/she plans to offer the iconic Alamo City dish at the establishment. The restaurant in question is Señor Locos and the owner, David Brian, whom I reached out to via Facebook and email yesterday says. In response to my wall post, he said, “Wow! Yes look for them to hit our Menu in April.”

And I see a lot of promise in the puffy tacos to come. First, Brian, who’s been in the Mexican and Tex-Mex restaurant world since he was 13 years old, has enlisted David Woodward as chef. Woodward resume includes working for Stephan Pyles in Las Vegas. But back to the puffy tacos. Brian says they’ve been tricky, a statement echoed by Tex-Mex masters. “The obstacle has been recreating the recipe, but we’re close to figuring it out.” Guests will have the ability to choose any protein as a puffy taco filling. Of course, there will be salsa options, too. “[Guests] can finish them off with our “Signature” Six Shooter salsas. These are six homemade salsas to dress any taco. In Mexico, a good taco is only great if topped with a good salsa.”

You can be sure as soon as puffy tacos earn a place on Señor Locos’ menu, I’ll be one of the first customers in line, primed not only for the airy, crunchy treats brimming with lettuce, tomato and cheese, but also for the carnitas, the Baja-style fish, the shrimp and what’s being advertised as a ceviche taco.

Señor Locos Tex-Mex Icehouse
701 W. Parker Road, Plano
214-501-4258

Last August, Taco Trail brought you the news that El Padrino was ordered to vacate it’s Bishop Arts District. Well, there’s an update. This is just in from Juan Contreras, Jr., of El Padrino, in original press release form.

El Padrino Taqueria a casualty to the Bishop Arts District’s success

DALLAS, TX – El Padrino Taqueria, affectionately known as El Padrino (Mexican Godfather), a popular Mexican food stand in the Bishop Arts District since the 1990’s has lost their lease and has found a new home.  El Padrino was housed in an old original Jack in the Box shaped fast food stand located on 330 W. Davis St., and provided great Mexican fast food to N. Oak Cliff’s diverse clientele.

El Padrino lost their lease to Sarah Lombardi in May “We didn’t see this coming, but we were grateful that Ms. Lombardi let us operate through November. Which allowed us some time to look for a new location and for our employees to find jobs nearby.” says Juan Contreras Jr. El Padrino hoped to move to a new location in the Bishop Arts District or somewhere nearby, “Unfortunately it was harder than we thought. Our broker Charlie Perdue, from Perdue Equities worked with us to find us a home nearby, however, there were just no options to fit our needs.” says Juan C. Contreras Jr., Managing Partner.

The Contreras say that they decided to move to southeastern Dallas on 1215 S Buckner Blvd not only because they got a good deal in their new location but also because they also wanted to expand their locations: one in Oak Cliff and the other in Pleasant Grove. “One of our friends here in the community approached us with a deal we could not pass and well we decided to give it a try.” says Juan Contreras Jr.

The new Padrino’s expects to open May 3^rd, 2013 serving the same type of original Mexican food items and more.

“We had a great run in the Bishop Arts District, and were surrounded by inspiring friends in the community and we expect to continue our success in our new location.” says Juan Contreras Jr.

El Padrino also has the original location located at 408 W. Jefferson Boulevard, which remains open.

Thank you,

Twitter: ElPadrinoTejas