The Taco List

Most people say that a taco is a tortilla, folded, with something inside.  But really, it's much more complicated than that.  Below are our expectations for what our favorite breakfast tacos should be like.

Chorizo and egg. The chorizo has to be just greasy enough. Not so much that it makes an orange path down the side of your palm and towards your forearm, but not so little that you can't tell it's what you're eating.  The stain on the tortilla will serve as evidence of your choice. Don't hide it. Be proud.

Potato and egg. But, I'm a purist.  Keep it simple. Potatoes. Eggs. No need to spice it up with cayenne or seasoned salt. No need to add tomatoes or onion. Use French fries only if you've got leftovers and/or have run out of potatoes, because that's authentic, it's a form of Mexican ingenuity.  If you want something more complex order the papa ranchera.  There's one exception to the potato-egg purity law, and that's the bacon rule. (more on that later)

Papa ranchera. A real treat.  Take potatoes and a basically add pico de gallo (minus, the lime and cilantro...or be adventurous and keep the cilantro). This taco doesn't need salsa unless you're one of those people that enjoys sweating without Zumba in the mornings. It's great that this is usually an old stand-by and is found on the list of common (discounted) tacos, but really, it's anything but ordinary. Papa ranchera is a robust blend with hints of black pepper and coriander plus an air of sophistication.  

Bean and cheese. The classic. The old stand-by. A model of simplicity, style, and serenity.  Only two rules: the beans must be refried and the cheese must be cheddar. Don't f--- with the classics!

Bean and egg. This is how you know you're from the Valley. As a matter of fact, if you objected to bean and cheese being the classic and old stand-by, it's probably because you grew up around onion fields, citrus trees, and summers so hot that you believe 80 degrees is a cold front. You speak fluent Tejano dialect.  You're also the one that went back home to complain to your friends and family about how they don't know what they're doing in San Antonio because when you asked for a taco de frijoles con huevo, they gave you a layer of beans and then a scrambled egg on top.  I know. I was once there, too. And you're totally right.  Bean and egg must be a mixing of bean and egg.  Do you throw an egg on top of potatoes to make potato and egg? No! Do you throw an egg onto chorizo to make chorizo and egg? No!  Do you throw bacon on top of eggs to make bacon and egg? You better not, because if you do, you're violating the bacon rule (see below).

(As you can see, the beans and egg are not properly mixed.  This is what we often find on our travels.  SMH)

Chorizo and bean. First introduced to me as a kid one morning, when mom had run out of eggs. Things have never been the same since.  It seams the chorizo grease is better absorbed by beans than eggs, so in a true incarnation of this culinary treat, there must be uniformity.  You shouldn't be able to tell that there are both beans and chorizo, it must appear to be one, inseparable, homogenous substance.

Honorable mention, chorizo con papa.  Yes, it's chorizo and potato, but if you're going to order this one at your favorite taqueria, you have to call for it in Spanish.  Otherwise, they'll think you're a poser, and nobody wants to be a poser.

Machacado con huevo. But it has to be REAL machaca.  I've been to places where they use fajita meat.  Don't fool yourself!  Machacado con huevo is not for the weak hearted.  It must include tomato, onion, and either jalapeño or serrano. It's a special taco that lets people know that not only are you from South Texas, but you have family in northern Mexico and you visited them often as a child. It says, I've woken up in cot on a a rancho and walked through the morning mist with my abuelito who wore botas to work, and they were never shiny with anything but what the cows left behind. 

Chicharron and egg.  A real treat.  One tiny step below chicharron and salsa.  The perfect alternative to the aforementioned, machacado.  The machacado is rustic, while the chicharron is elegant.  Keep it crunchy; texture is everything.  Chicharron = pork skin = pure fat = too much of a good thing will eventually kill you. But why are you concerned? If you've read this far it means you have little regard for digestive and cardiac systems - or total faith in them.

Chicharron en salsa. If there was a deluxe set, this would be at the top of the list. If it's on the menu, congratulations, you've found authenticity. Like her little brother with eggs (con huevos), chicharron en salsa is elegant, like a woman in an evening gown. She comes in saucy and leaves you satisfied.  But beware, she's hard to get a handle of at times, so keep the fork handy, in case you should have to pick up the pieces she leaves for you.

Sausage and egg. There is some confusion here. First of all, chorizo is technically sausage.  (I prefer to call it sausage con estyle.). So, sausage and egg is true tex-mex - our German and Polish brothers willing to chop their chorizos and mix them with our eggs.  (Cochino! You know what I mean.)  It's probably the earliest form of allowable race-mixing in South Texas.  But be careful with the variations.  In San Antonio, they'll call it country and egg, which will confuse the Valleyite expecting breakfast sausage. Incidentally, breakfast sausage mixed with egg adorned with a layer of processed cheese is about four short steps from heaven.

Ham and egg.  Another classic, especially among the humble masses. Packed with cheap protein to get you going without breaking the pocket-book, that is, if you're cooking at home.  It's close cousin is weenie and egg.

Weenie and egg.  That's right, "weenie."  Don't dare call it a frank and don't dare order it when you're breakfasting.  Do you order ramen at a restaurant?  No.  You eat ramen in the comfort of your own home, where you can no longer hide your poverty, and frankly have no reason to.  With a dozen tortillas, a dozen eggs, and a pack of weenies, you can survive for at least a week and maybe longer on what probably cost you about $4.15. Save the ramen for lunch and dinner.

Nopalitos con huevo. So you think you're an expert now?  That's what this taco says.  It means the exotic is mundane to you. Nopalitos are tangy-sweet and combining them with egg enhances the texture.  This taco is best enjoyed, however, on a corn tortilla, but it has to be one of the thick ones. Sometimes they double up tortillas, which is okay, but in reality the nopalitos beckon homestyle corn tortilla, the kind your abuelita used to make and your mom can allegedly prepare.  But she's only ever bought HEB ones for you so you think it's just a rumor.  

Barbacoa. But only on Sunday.  Except when you eat on Saturday, but that's ok. This is not a taco ordered, it's a taco you make with a pound or two on the table, your family around you, and as much disorder as possible. It requires a long preparation and some skill, too.  Someone in the family must be placed in charge of waking up early, waiting in a line that will stretch out the door and around the corner of the building, and being prepared to explain to the family, in case it should happen, that the guy in front of him took the last of the all meat so he ended up con puro cesos. (Shame!)  I would be remiss if I didn't mention that the proper juice selection for this breakfast meal is Big Red. Don't ask why. It's just the way it is. 

Carne guisada (and cheese). I have to admit that, coming from the Valley, this was the most shocking thing I'd ever encountered. Carne guisada for breakfast?  In a taco?  With cheese?  What the frijoles is going on?  As a matter of fact, my father finds the existence of the chupacabra more believable than this concoction. So for this taco, all we ask is for lots of carne and just a tad of guiso. Too much sauce will make this messier than a divorce settlement among millionaires.

Bacon rule. You can add bacon to any tacos without another meat already in the mix.  If in the Valley, chop it up. In San Antonio leaving it in a strip on top of the taco filling is occasionally employed. This is unacceptable, but we can only do so much in the education of the masses.

As you can see, we take our tacos seriously.  You may not agree with our reviews and observations, but that's why we're here - we taco bout it.