Times I kicked myself for every time I've eaten at Ojeda's in my life instead of eating across the damned street at Taqueria Mezquite: 126,229 Credit card machine count: 0
Taqueria Mezquite is across the street from Ojeda's. And you want it in your face. The murals on the outside say "Taqueria Mezquite," but if you Google that, you'll come up with nothing. Instead, just drive down Maple until you see Ojeda's, about four blocks north of Wycliff, then cross the street and meet the kind of tacos that inspire you to eat a million of them.
I found Taqueria Mezquite only because Taco Trail's José Ralat-Maldonado suggested it. When he says, "Let's meet at [anywhere for tacos]," you fuckin' meet him there. This guy knows taquerias like Miley Cyrus knows how to write a shitty song.
There's enough parking for only a few cars out front, which is good, because inside Taqueria Mezquite, there's enough butt parking for only a few people. And the décor inside is decidedly unfancy: mostly bare walls, except for a couple of shitty old prints of vases in pretty gold frames, a tiny television by the ceiling and a "No public baño" sign.
"I'll have the meatball special," Maldonado said, "plus three tacos." I thought to myself, "Self, you're not prepared for a lunch fail today. Let's stick to the basics. Let the Taco Trail Man blaze the ordering-meatballs-at-a-taqueria-trail on this day." I had the chorizo, chicharron and barbacoa tacos. Total: $3.
The corn tortillas are made by hand and the food is served quick as hell. My tacos (topped with cilantro and onion) were beyond good. Of the three tacos I ordered, the barbacoa was my favorite, with the chorizo a close second. If I were you, I'd definitely order both. I also heard happy moans about the carnitas.
There'll be a bowl of pickled onions and habaneros on your table, along with a squeeze bottle of that badass creamy green sauce that exists at every real taqueria. Dump the pickled stuff on your tacos, eat 'em, chase with the entire bottle of green stuff, love life. As for that meatball special, Maldonado was willing to share it. He was not, however, sharing his tacos. Yep. Stick to the tacos, beetches. And bring cash. Taco heaven don't take no credit cards.
