Tio Trompo Taquería - A John Nechman Discovery

 

John Nechman writes:

"   What a joy to find little treasures where you least expect them! Next time you're craving tacos and are facing the maddening construction-related traffic delays on Shepherd north of Buffalo Bayou, keep your eyes peeled for a tiny place on your right called Tio Trompo (316 Shepherd). Pull in and prepare to be intoxicated by the glorious aromas of marinated pork spinning on a roasting spit, a.k.a. el trompo. A kind couple from Veracruz, México and probably also their adorable curly-haired son (likely just a little more than a half-dozen years of age) will happily serve you food that will make you very thankful you took the time to read this.

No list of Veracruz food specialties that I've ever seen has included tacos, but there's no part of México where tacos aren't served and worshipped, and often, tacos from one state can have unique spice or preparation profiles that make them unique. I have seen places use interchangeably the terms "tacos de trompo," "tacos al pastor," and "tacos árabes," but each is subtly different, and all are available at Tío Trompo. In fact, Tío Trompo also serves a "taco oriental," which is the first I've seen in Houston (it's made with white pork meat instead of red and features a few additional spices). Because of unbelievably stupid laws here, finding authentic trompo has in the past required leaving town (to Karancho's in Channelview, for example). But now, you can thakfully just drive to Rice Military.

Start with the outstanding guacamole, thick and with just the right amount of seasoning. When you recall all the places now charging $15 and more for half this portion, you'll be cheering the $6 charged here. Order a torta featuring well-seasoned al pastor meat, straight from the trompo, the way the gods intended. Also, don't pass up the taco árabe, made similar to ones you would find in taco stands all around Puebla, México, where they originated, based on recipes brought by mostly Lebanese and Iraqi immigrants around the turn of the 20th Century. A large pita bread is stuffed with that delectable trompo meat, on which you should liberally slather that guac and then drizzle on some of the outstanding salsas verde y rojo. You'll also receive a ramekin of sliced onions marinated with microscopike habanero chiles--very spicy, and addictive as crack. And hopefully, you visit on the weekend, when they serve barbacoa that rivals Gerardo's. Tacos here are generously-portioned and a bargain at $3 to $3.50 each ($6 for the much larger taco árabe); 3 will be a substantial meal.

If you're one of those tortilla queens who can't bear the thought of tortillas not made from nixtamalized heirloom corn grown from seeds procured from fincadores on ancient Zapotecan lands outside of Oaxaca, then go to Tátemo. The corn tortillas at Tío Trompo are plenty respectable, but they won't win any Ms. Maiz Mexicana contests. The meat is the star here and would even taste magnificent on those Whole Foods Market keto-friendly, organic monstrosities made with coconut oil.

Tío Trompo also does breakfast tacos, and other tables were ordering them even though it was well after noon when we visited--they looked enormous. And though Tío Trompo does a respectable jamaica and horchata, bring along the essential liquid that never fails to perfectly compliment tacos--cerveza. And I'll bet the nice people at Tío Trompo will be happy to furnish all you need to create a perfect michelada. "

Taquería Las Dos de Michoacan - A John Nechman Discovery

 

John writes: "  We can all agree that Mexico has some of the best food on the planet, and Houstonians are blessed to have a fabulous selection from all parts of Mexico available in every nook and cranny of our fair city. For food from the interior, food trucks are often the best source, and the choices are overwhelming. So I'm glad to be blessed with friends who post pictures of where they eat so I can discover new jewels to sample.

My friend Jose Tavera, who runs the San Felipe location of my favorite Antoine's branch, recently posted an a trailer in south Houston near Hobby called Taqueria las dos de Michoacán (6401 Telephone). I love the food of Michoacán, the home of carnitas and some of the best tamales in Mexico (uchepos!). And one of my favorite of all dishes is enchiladas michoacanas, which often look more like large red dumplings because they are made with tortillas soaked in a guajillo chile salsa before being fried and filled with a delicious filling that always contains pureed potato but may also feature soft minced carrot or frijoles added to the mix. These are topped with shredded lettuce, sliced onions, carrots in vinegar, salsas verdes and/or rojos, hopefully some avocado, and crumbled cotija cheese. On the side are usually frijoles, arroz (or even better, more papas!), a roasted jalapeño, and cecina--like a cross between machacada and fajita meat. The version at this delightful little taqueria parked in a a car repair parking lot is one of the best I've had in Houston.

I added on 2 tacos de pastor. Every so often, a taco in Houston grabs my attention. These nearly snapped my head off they were so delicious! The tortillas are made by hand, and the meat is perfectly seasoned. Nothing fancy, but they are the type of tacos you'll wish you ordered more of.

If you've never tried enchiladas michoacanas, you should try this place. And while driving around (particularly on the north side) also watch for enchiladas potosinas--also incredible!"

Jay writes: "Ever notice when you order enchiladas in San Antonio, that the tortillas are red? Why is that? Here's my hypothesis. The word enchilada comes from the verb enchilar ( to add chile to something) and the dish is actually tortillas enchiladas, shortened over time to just enchiladas and including variations that may not even be "chile'ed". In San Luis Potosí, the enchiladas Potosínas tortillas are made with a masa that has been flavored/colored with guajillo chiles ( the "Mexican paprika" as the guajillo adds color to chorizo and other dishes). That is their tradition and what sets a criteria to be called Potosínas, along with a side serving of carrots and potatoes (in my experience). When Gebhardt developed his chili powder (he had the "aha" moment where he realized he could apply the powdered paprika technology of Austria-Hungary to Mexican chiles), the chiles (mainly ancho and guajillo) were brought up in bulk from the state of San Luis Potosí, according to some Gebhardt literature I have from the early 1900's. I'm guessing that the masa in San Antonio was influenced by this tradition, though, nowadays, the red comes more often from a food grade food coloring lol.