Yet Another Taquería

Taquerias La Huasteca #3
3901 San Pedro

(at Olmos Drive, just north of the railroad underpass)

There is a building on the corner of Olmos Drive and San Pedro that, in the 20-plus years I've lived in the area, has housed probably half a dozen restaurants. None of them have thrived, or even survived. Most of them — all but one, in fact — opened and closed before I'd even had the chance to try them. The other day I was stopped at the traffic light on Olmos, and realized that yet another restaurant occupied that space now.

It was a fairly long light, so I had the chance to study the building. It's a sort of mid-50s industro-retail space, all plate glass windows with a gaudy orange overhang; a few parking places facing both streets, a warehouse behind, a failed bank (now a lawyer's office, I believe) across the side street, and used-car dealerships on the opposite corners. The name in big letters was amateurishly painted across several of the windows.

Those windows are coated with a glare-reducing shading material that is so dark, it makes the business look closed. If it hadn't been for a small lighted "open" sign above the door, I would have concluded that yet another restaurant had come and gone un-noticed. But this one was still in business; it hasn't even been there long enough to fail.

So today, on my way to take part in the Black Friday shopping experience — something I normally avoid like flavoured mineral water — I took my chance and had a late breakfast there.

In a neighbourhood that has more good taco houses than grackles, why would anybody think there's a call for another one? This is not some novice restaurateur: the same people have another location about a mile away, on Hildebrand, near the Deco-B. They must have a lot of confidence in their ability to draw trade away from the sixteen thousand other good places within a mile. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration, but only a slight one.

When I try a new taco house for the first time, I like to order things that I'm most familiar with. How can I evaluate a place rationally if I order something I rarely, or never, eat elsewhere? So this morning it was what I think of as My Usual: one chilaquile taco, and one machacado taco, both in corn.

The interior of the place seems cavernous. It's not really that big, but would comfortably hold nearly twice as many tables as it currently has, about a dozen. Or a dance floor; there's room for a dance floor. But instead of music, you have the audio from a television in an entertainment center, rescued from somebody's living room, over in the back corner. And of course the TV is tuned to some telenovela at this time of day. This is where that cavernous room really comes in handy, as I could sit far enough away to ignore the TV entirely (and read a little in my "car book" — I always keep something to read in the car, and it always takes forever to get through; currently I'm reading an interesting and well-written, if somewhat oddly focused, history of New Orleans).

No city inspection yet.

If I wanted to complain (and unusually for me, I don't) I would find some slight fault with the service. It was relaxed to the point of distraction, but good enough under the circumstances, and everything was done correctly. No particular effort went into making me feel welcome; it was kind of like the second week visiting your mom's house. Yes, they're glad you're there but the novelty has worn off.

The food I got was well-made, good enough to justify this additional taco house in the neighbourhood. The corn tortillas had good texture and reasonably good flavour, and they were packed with well-made fillings. The veggies in both tacos had been cooked sufficiently — I find a lot of places are in too much of a hurry at that stage, which is on the way to becoming a pet peeve — but not over done. The eggs were thoroughly cooked without being the least bit dry. And the machacado was nicely chewy, while the chilaquiles had just the right amount of crunch. All that gets the place a rating slightly above average, but I left feeling that it could easily have done it all better. The seasoning seemed mundane, unadventurous. The people in the kitchen seem to know what they're doing; I would just encourage them to try something a little out of their routine.