Sitting at Bolsa in Oak Cliff, snacking on a Boar's Head Reuben, I asked my bartender about the small, run down-looking taqueria across the street. "You eat at that place?" I asked him. "Too much," he replied, lamenting that they sometimes closed just before his shift ended at Bolsa, often leaving him sad tacoless.
I'd just finished lunch, but I figured: Screw it. What's better than a double-lunch day? I asked the bartender which tacos I should order. "I always get the chorizo; they make it in house," he said. "Make sure you get the green salsa," he added as I walked to the door. "They run out of it all the time."
Homemade chorizo and homemade salsa verde? I'm in. I ran across Davis and placed an order for one chorizo and one fajita beef taco, the bartender's second choice. "Can I get the green salsa, too please," I said, reaching past the plastic tip jar to collect my change. The woman behind the sliding screen door nodded with a smile as it slapped shut.
A few minutes later I was eating two tacos off a trash can on the side of the road. They were pretty good. The chorizo was spicy and salty and tasted fresh. The salsa was hot. Not hot enough to make me choke on its own, but an ill-timed inhalation did fill my lungs with noxious chili vapors. As I coughed and my eyes watered, a Latino dude eating tacos off the hood of his car laughed at my expense. Gringo.
I was curious about the ingredients, so I went back to the window. The chorizo is indeed made in-house, according to the woman working the counter. "What about the tortillas?" I asked. "Where do you get those?"
"Fiesta Mart," she told me, and the screen door slapped shut again.
OK, not ideal, but still: Well worth the double lunch.
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