Guns and Tacos

A Taco Hunter Strikes Gold

January 4th, 2010 in Tacos! by Jay | 10 responses

I visited Baytown, TX with J.C. Reid a month or two ago, and he found a hidden gem, Taqueria Sahuayo.

On a cold and overcast Sunday in January,  I drove to Baytown to pick up my brother and continue the taco expedition in this oft-forgotten city.

“What an ugly day”, I noted.

“Not really”, he responded brightly. “It’s always overcast in Baytown”.

This didn’t make any sense to me at the time, but as I tore down the road that went through the Exxon refinery, it occurred to me that he was right. Every time I go to Baytown I get lost, and every time I go to Baytown it is overcast. Go figure.

Tia Nena's. Baytown

We ate at a tiny place called Tia Nena’s Restaurant, down the street from Lee Highschool/College. A couple welcomed us at the door of the empty restaurant, an endearing Latina woman and her giant of a husband.

“You can sit anywhere you’d like.”

We’ve all been to restaurants with an unsettling ambiance, but I tend to give it a grain of salt when exploring for genuine Mexican food.

But this place was creepy. You could see where Ike’s floodwaters had come and gone, and there was a tangible scent of mold in the air. It was like eating in an old person’s living room while their cat stares at you.

He took one look at my grizzled, snarling brother and quickly realized we weren’t into the telenovela they were watching.  Andre the Giant started flipping through the channels while repeatedly looking at us for approval.

Not while I'm eating.

I considered leaving, but the Not So Incredible Hulk brought us some chips and salsa, which were some kind of generic Sysco Tostitos and salsa from a can.

I ordered the Tampiquena, and my brother ordered ground beef tacos.  The steak was actually really good. It was ten bucks, and was heavily marinated and tender, with a good fat content. The tacos were Tex-Mex style, served with lettuce and tomatoes. The guacamole was fresh but bland, and we both pushed the refried beans aside after a taste.

We paid Lyle Alzado and left, as his wife gave us a sincere, sparkling smile and told us goodbye as if we were their last customer. It was memorable.

I continued driving around Baytown, taking photos of different establishments that were closed on Sundays, or simply out of business.  I was ready to move on.

“Let’s go to Pasadena”, I told my brother.

“But you said you would never go back to Pasadena”.

“That was a long time ago”.

“Will they ever stop chasing you?”

“I don’t know, brother. It’s been 16 years”.

I flipped through my Twitter feed as I fueled through the ghost town and down Interstate 10. A fellow Houston taco aficionado and Texas traveler Stephan Seagraves suggested that I explore a couple of exits in the Channelview area, so I took an exit onto Sheldon Road.

For a few blocks, I saw nothing but dollar stores and pawn shops. When I began to lose hope, I saw taco stands. And chrome. Lots of chrome and neon orange signs. And then I smelled mesquite smoke.

I had discovered Karanchos- a place I would soon find to be one of Houston’s taco truck champions.

Karanchos. A new contender in town

“Why is that lady letting her kid pee in the parking lot?” my brother asked as we exited the ’59 Pontiac Bonneville.

I ignored him as I peed on the other side of the parking lot.

We advanced toward the taco stand, and I noticed something beautiful. Something I hadn’t seen since I lived in Tijuana twelve years ago.

The illustrious Tacos de Trompo.

How Tacos are Done.

A taquero stood with a giant knife and two huge spits of achiote-red pork, stationed in front of two multi-tiered fireboxes. He delicately carved off ribbons of bright red, juicy pastor as my brother treated me for shock symptoms. At the top of each spit was a whole skinned pineapple, which dripped down into the beautiful glaze.

As I mentioned in a previous post, there is currently a county regulation prohibiting this method of cooking. Probably because it would put a lot of restaurants out of business if people knew how good these tacos really were. Perhaps this part of Channelview is exempt (or maybe not).

A uniformed taquero, wearing latex gloves, pours a paprika mixture over chickens on a pit.

“What would you like to order?” the lovely taco lady asked.

“Tacos de Trompo”, I whimpered.

“Why are you crying?”, she asked.

“Tortillas maiz. Con todo, por favor”.

She directed us to the other side of the taco stand, where the food was received. To my absolute astonishment, this taco truck had an entire dining room area behind it. There were around 35 dining tables. The area was enclosed with a plastic screen perimeter to retain the heat, and several new state-of-the art standing space heaters were installed for maximum dining comfort. A staff of 7-10 employees wore matching orange uniforms and blue latex gloves.

Each table had its own clear plastic box with self-serve lime, onion, and cilantro. A bottle of green salsa was on each table.  To my right was a juice bar, with art deco stools and tables.

The patrons watched a soccer game on two flatscreen HD television sets.

My tacos arrived, as a rainbow appeared in the sky.

Real. Mexican. Tacos

I explained to my brother how to apply cilantro, onion and lime liberally, as he explained that I was not seeing a rainbow, but the sun reflecting on a compact disc that hung from someone’s rear view mirror.

My hands shook as I lightly salted the bright red pork. There was probably some red salsa somewhere, but impatience prevailed and I hurriedly used the green.

I took a bite. The crunch of the lightly charred pork, the oily corn tortillas, the hot green salsa, fresh lime juice, and salt converged to a spectral point of magnificence.

I felt like I had just won a gold medal in the Tacolympics.

Karanchos offers a large menu, with several types of tacos listed. They also have chilitos rellenos; tiny poblano peppers that have been stuffed, battered and fried. They looked delicious, and I regret that I didn’t pick a few up on my way out.

I will come back to this place. And I’m bringing as many people I can, because I can’t wait to share this with everyone. This is taco gold.

And I didn’t even have to step foot into Pasadena.