Mike Harden and some Tacolicious "cheese dip."

One of the best things about Tacolicious is the great group of investors that we have. It’s like the restaurant’s extended community. It makes things much more interesting and invigorating than if Joe and I were just going this whole thing alone.

Mike Harden might be one of our biggest influences. You can thank him for the chile con queso that’s on our menu. It’s Mike that insisted even we, if just for a menu moment, abandon all that’s local and sustainable and embrace the dark side (i.e. the V word).

I had no idea though that Mike, an Arkansas native, had such a connection to this dish. (He emailed me once, “What’s funny is that at home, we call it cheese dip. I only started calling it queso because it sounded fancier and I had a culinary inferiority complex.”) Or that Mexican cheese dip actually hails from his Southern state where it’s as common on restaurant tables as bread and butter. It all became clear in this kind of hysterical yet amazing documentary tracing the history of cheese dip that he sent me to watch.

I took a moment with Mike, who, when he’s not working at his real job, is obsessing over this creamy concoction that clearly speaks to his soul.

What’s your earliest cheese dip memory?
I was 7 or 8 years old. My parents took me to Mexico Chiquito, the famous restaurant in northern Little Rock. This was the only non fast food restaurant in town. They told me we were going to Mexican food and I said, ‘No way in hell!’ So we went to McDonald’s and got hamburgers and brought them to Mexico Chiquito. My sister and I had the famous Hawaiian punch. The waiter brought out the cheese dip. I reached in reluctantly, took a chip, took a dip, and I was hooked. I dropped my fries and hamburger and finished the rest of it.

So where do you get cheese dip?
They sell it everywhere. Italian restaurant? Cheese dip. Burger joint? Cheese dip. It’s like a condiment too.

But it’s Mexican, right?
Well, that’s interesting. It’s accepted as regional cuisine. It’s sent out free, like the bread you might get at a restaurant. In supermarkets there are displays of Velveeta and Ro*tel. It’s not considered Mexican. It’s just hospitality. In Arkansas you will decided where you’re going to eat based on the chips and cheese dip.

[I ask Mike what's Ro*tel and he looks at me like I'm crazy.]

Mike followed up our interview with some more obsessive cheese dip emails. One included what he claims is the original cheese dip recipe from Mexico Chiquito as well as the history of the restaurant which claims that it started the whole cheese dip phenomenon in 1935 when a guy named Blackie Donnally came to Arkansas from a Tex-Mex border town.

Although everyone uses either Pace Picante sauace or Ro*tel now, this is the original cheese-dip recipe according to Mike. It’s not what we make at Tacolicious, but then again, we don’t come from a town called Hope.

Mexico Chiquito’s Cheese Dip

• 1 stick of butter
• 4 tablespoons flour
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon chili powder
• 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
• 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon ketchup
• a dash of salt
• 2 cups milk
• 1 pound Kraft American cheese (the real kind), cut into cubes
• Melt butter in a saucepan. Add flour and stir around until flour loses its raw taste, about 2 minutes. Add the remaining ingredients including the milk. Then add the cheese. Stir until cheese is melted.

Telmo was working his butt off, serving up the scrambled egg and bacon tacos and an amazing birria. Juanito was cooking in his Mexico jersey. The tequila shots were flowing long before 8 am. The first margarita orders came in at 8:15. But my favorite morning bender drink has to be a cafe corregido, otherwise known as Mexican Coffee. Not only is it dangerously delicious, but it turns out to be a great way to start a work day.

Do try this at home:
To a glass, add equal parts cold espresso, tequila and Kahlua. Top with foamed milk.

This should be called the Jump Start.

Tacolicious will be open for every US or Mexico game for the remaining World Cup. Our opening hours are:

Friday 6/18 6:30 am USA v. Slovenia
Tuesday 6/22 6:30 am Mexico v. Uruguay
Wednesday 6/23 6:30 am USA v. Algeria

Cold margarita and a hot bath=happiness

If forced to choose, I’d pick hot bath water over therapy. The bath is where I catch up on my books and read my magazines. It’s where I learn things about why Obama and Wallstreet are warring and why espadrilles are back. And if I’m too burnt out to read, I do a lot of staring at the tile walls of the bathroom, blissfully zoning out.

Along with my lavender bath salts, I also like a drink with my bath. Usually it’s a glass of wine, but if Joe’s home, the preference is a margarita, something, no surprise, he’s very practiced in making.

So, tonight being Sunday, I’m lucky to have Joe home with all the kids (who are watching the original Clash of the Titans starring Sir Laurence Olivier, and exclaiming things like “Oh no! Pegasus is in jail!”)—not just because I love him, but because he made me an excellent margarita for the bath. In marriage, priorities are everything.

As I sat there, soaking the bones, I stared at my margarita, watching the beads of condensation drip down the glass—my senses a bit softened by both my rising internal temperature and the warmth of the tequila—and thinking how much I love a margarita. It provides the perfect moment of sour, salty, sweet (with a little smokiness from the tequila thrown in): I think it might be the perfect drink. It’s one I order again and again at Tacolicious, despite the fact that there are a lot of other great cocktails on the menu. (The Jamaica is my second choice.)

So, cheers to the things in life that you can never tire of. Here’s Joe’s recipe, for the bath, for the bar, for just about any excuse.

THE BEST BASIC MARGARITA
Although many people add a little simple syrup, Joe prefers to keep it simple.

Into a shaker full of ice add:

2 oz good-quality blanco tequila
1 oz quality orange liqueur
juice of 1 lime

Shake and strain all over a glass full of ice with a salted rim. Serve to your wife who will love you that much more.

Another thing that’s more of an American tradition is the one of taking tequila and throwing it back into your gullet with a grimace, biting into a lime and licking salt off the back of your hand (or someone else’s body part, depending on how the night is unfolding). In Mexico, it’s more often a pleasurable experience that involves sipping—savoring even—a glass of tequila, often alternated with a little sip of sangrita, of which Enrique is serving up tonight.

You know a bartender is dedicated to their craft when they’re willing to get out of bed to answer a phone call at 9 am in the morning to give you their sangrita recipe, which Enrique just did.

SANGRITA
Although Enrique didn’t have the exact measurements, this is more or less how he mixes up the spicy, sweet, salty drink: To a blender, add 2 cups tomato juice, 1/2 cup of orange juice, 1/2 cup of grapefruit juice, 1/4 cup lime juice. Throw in a little onion, a couple sprigs of cilantro, some healthy dashes of Tapatio and salt to taste. Blend well and strain into a pitcher. Chill. Makes just over 3 cups worth. Serve up cold, in a shot glass, next to a shot glass full of good tequila. (If you need exact tested measurements, try this recipe, from my former boss Andy Harris back at my days at Williams-Sonoma Taste magazine (may it rest in peace); it should be a good one. Andy introduced me to sangrita actually.)

Much more fun than making it yourself? Coming into Tacolicious tonight and letting Enrique show you the way.

This is my favorite part of this article though:
“A great taco is a perfect food,” said Danny Mena, the chef at Hecho en Dumbo, who is from Mexico City. “A tortilla, a protein and then the salsa is just the genius Mexican way of seasoning every bite with acidity, heat and salt.”
Felipe Mendez, the chef at La Superior, said, “In Mexico, we say that the meat is what makes a taco good, but the salsa is what makes it exceptional.”