courtesy of bencollsuss via flickr

On SF Gate’s Inside Scoop today, the honorable Paolo Lucchesi sat down with the venerable Rick Bayless to talk shop. After he got done waxing on about his good eating in SF (none of it Mexican), he got down to business. A man with a sharp mind, Bayless always has some interesting things to say.

“Mexican food in California has been so incredibly limited to the taqueria style. It’s like if you went to France and say American food is just hot dogs—it’s good but it’s not the whole story. Everyone is so focused on taquerias. It’s a very, very small amount of cuisine in Mexico.”

“I’m looking for a chef to have the guts to rise above and do a fine dining restaurant that really showcases the real food of Mexico. [ed's note: yes!] And it seems people are clamoring for that. Granted you need the background and have to travel in Mexico—you don’t learn it in culinary school. But I still think there’s someone in San Francisco that can do that.”

“I think Mexican food in LA tends to be quite bland. There are places that are doing the real thing, but it’s mostly sticking to the taqueria model. There’s a little bit lighter, fresher quality to what I’ve tasted in San Francisco, but there seems to be a sameness to what you get in LA. It tends to be gringo-ized to me. Not all, but most.” [Interestingly, Bayless just opened a place in LA called Red O. Read what Grubstreet had to report.]

“There’s a bit of investment in our country in keeping our image of Mexico and Mexican food as low, cheap and not worthy of our attention. I’ve been on the other side of that my whole life, because I first went to Mexico as a kid and found it to be the most enriching culture and wanted to bring it back through food.” [yes, yes, yes!]

“In the United States—and in a lot of cases, California, because of its large immigrant population—there’s become a stereotype of what Mexican cuisine should be, and it’s hard to break out of it.”

“I have a Mexican soul but not a Mexican grandmother, so I don’t have to be slavish about adhering to one particular family recipe. I think that if we’re going to break out, we have to see the country in a different way than the way we’ve stereotyped it as poor, downtrodden and nothing but a beach getaway for us to play in. That’s a hard thing to get over.”

“People forget that Mexico City is a sophisticated, world-class city. There’s a chef in Oaxaca that’s doing molecular gastronomy things — he’s incredibly well-traveled and well-educated. We just have to be able to open our eyes to what’s really there, and wipe out the Cancun and Mazatlan images from our minds.”

Nice interview Lucchesi.

El Herradero's sign will rise again.

There’s something telling about San Franicsco’s current restaurant world in this little story. A tale of technology and pop-ups, something old and something new.

The other day I was at work and lo and behold, what popped up on my computer but a tweet from Mission Street Food announcing that, due to the fact that the finishing touches were being done to their new restaurant Commonwealth, they were getting rid of the El Herradero sign: Come and get it! I emailed Joe who texted me back. We’ve always loved that sign and I wanted it to be ours.

Until last week, El Herradero’s light-up sombrero sign, orange-tiled awning and kitschy picture-covered walls had long contributed some of the best flavor to a stretch of Mission Street that’s rapidly changing. I’m not one to vilify gentrification—neighborhoods have always ebbed and flowed—but El Herradero’s closing is significant. It wasn’t replaced by some funky dive. The Mission District mainstay was taken over by Commonwealth, a relatively fancy restaurant that ironically sprang from the loins of Mission Street Food. It speaks to the Mission District’s future.

This is where it all starts to come full circle in some poetic way: Mission Street Food was a pioneer in the city’s restaurant recession and came to represent the scrappy result of a rotating group of chefs trying their hand at different foods and serving it very inexpensively. MSF started out as one of the first food trucks in the city. Eventually, it was forced to move into Lung Shang and become one of the city’s most significant pop-up restaurants. The PBR drinkers came in droves. There were long waits.

Today, Lung Shang is now Mission Chinese Food and Commonwealth has a pre-fixe menu serving heady things like goat cooked in hay and liquid nitrogen cocktails. The upscale interior has no trace of its former El Herradero inhabitant.

Meanwhile, Tacolicious—a farmers market stand that become a restaurant in the Marina—is now the proud owner of a historical piece of the Mission District. (Do I hear the hipsters howling in protest or am I just imagining things?)

When Joe showed up at Commonwealth to offer to buy the sign, owner Anthony Myint gave us a great deal—as long as we threw in some tacos to boot. We fed the exhausted crew and came home with a 250 pound-plus sign. I don’t know what exactly we’re going to do with it, but I promise you it’ll be up somewhere in Tacolicious II (and yes, there will be one in the future). Lit up in all its former glory, we can all use it as a reminder of these crazy times.

Mike Barrows, our general manager, recently got back from a trip to the Tequila region of Mexico. It was there that he learned something I’ve always found to be true: Everything tastes better when you learn to love the people that make it.

Mike came to us initially as our bar manager—probably the healthiest bar manager you’re ever going to meet. While many bar professionals tend toward late nights and cigarette breaks, Mike is the type of guy who religiously runs five miles every morning—no matter where he is. I’m pretty sure he’s the only person that has run (for exercise) through the streets of Guadalajara in the pouring rain (“People thought I was crazy,” he said), as well as through the gorgeous hilly town of Atotonilco, where the small family-owned 7 Leguas distillery is located.

Before he went on this trip, Mike also hadn’t eaten meat for 11 years.

But before you judge, know that his one moment of pork weakness came out of respect. Respect for the 7 Leguas family who not only gave him the tour of their small, well-cared-for distillery, and let him try his hand in the agave fields (see above) but then brought him into their hacienda for lunch and then to dinner at their ranch house which is located in the middle of agave fields, looking to the mountains. The agave glowed in the full-moon light. “We were with them for eight hours, talking and hanging out,” Mike, who was there with his girlfriend Michaela, told me.

“The owner Juan Fernando didn’t say much at first. But when he got a little buzz on, he started speaking in English and he was really funny—a great guy. You can tell his family comes first. They’re just really cool people.” Throughout the dinner, they sipped tequila (Mike is now a huge fan of the blanco), and ate things like shrimp ceviche. “They love the name Tacolicious. If the cooks placed any food on the table,” Mike said, “They’d say like, Tortillalicious! and all laugh.”

But when it came to the last course, the cooks served pork. Mike hesitated only a moment. And then dug in. The verdict? “It was amazing!” he said. ”I fell in love with that family. How could I say no?”

For those of you who can’t make it to Atotonilco to get a taste of 7 Leguas straight from the distillery, for the month of August, Tacolicious is offering up the next best thing: A $14 of 7 Leguas: the blanco, reposado and añejo. The difference is astounding. Come in and ask for Mike. He’ll be happy to share his experience with you. (It’ll make it taste better, I promise.)

The person to become Tacolicious’s 1000th Facebook fan will get two tickets to Outside Lands (August 14-15) plus six tacos from our Tacolicious stand! Kings of Leon? Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros?  Tokyo Police Club? Carnitas?

This is going to be one fine day. Go to Facebook now.

Karen Taylor of Primavera's new place in Sonoma

My parents live in Glen Ellen. In the summer,  Sonoma is where I flee from San Francisco’s summer fog. Although this side of the wine country might be more white-bread than the city, it’s hardly lacking in Latin flavor. And Highway 12 is where to find it.

Highway 12, otherwise known as Sonoma Highway, runs through the heart of the town of Sonoma and into Boyes Hot Springs, a part of town where the bodegas (complete with chicken grilling out front) and the fancy Sonoma Mission Inn meet. It’s where you’ll find some great Mexican eating too. Here are some of my picks.

Tortilleria Jalisco 897 W Napa St.
A good flour tortilla is hard to find. More often than not, they’re doughy, pasty things. But the women here make great ones: thin, clearly griddled, no sketchy ingredients, and somehow a layered, lard-texture without the lard. (Not that I’m opposed to lard.) Even before they opened their retail tortilleria, I regularly picked up bags of their tortillas, both flour and corn, to bring home and freeze. The tortilleria also sells tacos and other snacks.

Rancho Viejo, 18976 Highway 12, 707-939-3663
Since it opened in the past year, this cute Yucatecan restaurant has been a welcome addition to Highway 12. Although I haven’t been here yet, the locals (including my parents) enjoy the homecooking, including huaraches, conchinitas pibil and panuchos.

El Molino, 11 Central, phone n/a
Right off 12, this brand-newcomer to Boyes Hot Springs was just opened by Karen Taylor, the owner of the popular Primavera Tamales and the popular Primavera stand at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market. I love her down-home but stylish take on Mexican design including gorgeous tiled floors, great lettering and a corrugated green plastic awning. The Blue Bottle coffee sign and a Porshe Cayenne parked outside, is enough to let you know you’re far from Mexico. My chicken enchilada was just fine, but we tried a tamale with a gorgeous, slightly spicy mole and a delicious, if huge, chicken tinga tostada that comes loaded with beans, crema and lettuce. (As I’ve noticed with Tacolicious, people are apt to balk when a Mexican restaurant using high-quality ingredients goes above the average taqueria price range; I’m sure Taylor gets an earful. But her two-for-one portions match the price.) Sit outside and enjoy the warm day.

La Michoacana, 18495 Highway 12, 707-938-1773
Apparently unrelated to the Michoacana paleta brand you’ll see in all the Mission District bodgeas, this ice cream and popsicle shop is the perfect post-lunch stop for both adults and kids. (From what I understand, the family-run business is one of 10 in the U.S.) The ice cream is very good but I’m all about the paletas because they’re just so beautiful, with slices of whole fruit shining through. Drab in comparison, but very tasty, is the walnut flavor. It’s one of my favorites. And how can you forget the frozen bananas dipped in chocolate and coconut? You can’t.

Let’s face the facts: A Mexican restaurant without a good margarita is like a day without sunshine. So when Patricia Unterman, the city’s very respected Examiner restaurant critic, came into Tacolicious and ended what was otherwise a very positive review with this …

“Your biggest investment will be in booze, and here I do have a quibble. Both the house margarita ($9) and the nonalcoholic agua frescas ($4) need work.”

… we were worried.

I emailed Unterman to ask her what exactly she found needed work when it comes to our margarita and she said she wasn’t a fan of the orange liqueur we were using. At Hayes Street Grill, the restaurant she co-owns, she uses Gran Torres Orange Liqueur and said that it’s the best, if a bit expensive, option.

Not surprisingly, our margarita is our best-selling drink meaning this critique wasn’t something to take lightly. So we set out to do a blind taste test or nine margaritas made identically—except each with a different orange liqueur (barring one that was made with agave syrup instead, Tommy’s style). We couldn’t find Grand Torres in time for the taste test unfortunately, but our selection of orange liqueurs was broad, including:

• Patron Citronge
• Combier
• Grand Marnier
• Hiram Walker
• Clement Creole Shrubb
• Bols
• Curacao Curacao
• Agave nectar (not an orange liqueur but we wanted to try it out as an option)
• Cointreau

The winning margarita would be our new recipe!

I invited a smattering of tasters of all sorts of expertise: Liza Shaw, chef of A16 (and our neighbor); Eric Rubin (co-owner of Tres Agaves tequila) and Rebecca Chapa (somm  and wine and spirits educator). Also tasting: me, Joe and Telmo, our chef.

As we sipped and pondered deep thoughts, discussions about whether or not you should make a cocktail so that it dilutes properly with ice came up. Or whether or not a margarita should let the tequila speak first. My big aha was that margaritas are so ingrained in our taste memories (they epitomize the taste of good times, beaches, warm weather) that they’re really difficult to taste completely objectively.

To be absolutely honest, as the tasting wore on, I started to realize that the differences were incredibly subtle, barring a couple that seemed markedly different. But I kept this to myself, should I come across like a fraud. Luckily Liza said it for me, “This is harder than it looks!”

My notes for each margarita were one-worders: (“good”, “boozy”) while Liza, sitting next to me, was writing madly, eloquent descriptions like: “Slightly floral, slightly bitter, nice balance of sweetness and acid, not very pronounced orange flavor.” So much for my food writing career.

Nevertheless, there was one I loved and kept returning to taste again. There was also one that truly sucked. The rest? I could have almost swapped one for another. The thing with tastings is all your focus is on the drink or the food, whereas in everyday life, you’re far more distracted. If I’d been chatting with friends about my day and eating dinner while drinking these margaritas, their slightly different flavor profiles would have been a non-issue. (Not to mention I probably would have been drunk.)

But this was in the name of sobering science. Finally, we got to the last one. We numbered them in order: one being the best, nine being the worst. Then Rebecca tallied them up. One orange liqueur came out clearly on top. In fact three of us (Liza, Rebecca and myself) had voted it our top pick.

As the bartender went through each different liqueur, we waited with bated breath to see which one we’d chosen as the outstanding winner. Drum roll: It was Bols Triple Sec! The thrifty choice of orange liqueur we’ve been using at Tacolicious all along. I actually couldn’t believe it. I was stunned. Liza’s notes for Bols said: “Sweeter orange blossom flavor. Not so acidic. Nice balance.” Mine said “Might be my fav.”

Ironically enough, Telmo and Joe had choice “E” (the Bols) margarita as one of their least favorites.

Conclusion? We’re back to our original marg. And you can’t judge an orange liqueur by its price.

Epilogue: Patricia Unterman will be pleased to know that on top of our house margarita, we’re also going to start serving a margarita made with nothing but tequila, lime juice and agave syrup—which is Eric Rubin’s favorite way to make a margarita. Let the agave shine through.

Emma: Proof that even brides can get with our "fingers not forks" motto

In May, a tale of love and tacos unfolded. In other words, our first full-on, 180 person wedding gig.

Emma Boyes (now, Emma Campion)—the associate creative director of food and drink at Weldon Owen Publishing in San Francisco (think  Williams Sonoma cookbooks and more) hired us for her wedding to Pat Campion, a property developer. I was particularly nervous about this because I knew that Emma was connected in the food industry and the wedding would be populated with food stylists, photographers and more. I mentioned this perhaps more times than Kelly, who organized the whole thing, would have liked.

But all went off without a hitch. Except for the hitch itself, if you know what I mean. I interviewed Emma briefly to see how it went. She also sent us some of the beautiful photos shot by Melanie Duerkopp.

A taco wedding? Great idea, but not traditional.
Being in the food business, I have learnt the difference between fancy food and good food. We wanted it to be casual, fun, the food simple but delicious, with plenty of chilled wine and buckets of icy, cold Tecates. All this without breaking the bank or getting sucked into the “wedding industry.” Honestly, after meeting with a couple of wedding caterers, we were so disillusioned about the whole affair, their food was so fussy—it just wasn’t for us.

And why Tacolicious (barring the obvious, awesome reasons)?
We enjoy  the street food in San Francisco—everything the Ferry Building on Thursdays has to offer; tacos on Harrison; Naomi’s pizza oven outside of Homestead. But finding the right street vendor proved hard, considering we were feeding 180 and wanting some sort of passed food as well as the main meal.

How did the reception go?
We kicked off the afternoon with Prosecco, beer and passed appetizers. The Tacolicious tuna tostadas have been raved about ever since, as well as the delicious gazpacho shooters you guys made. The sit-down was as family style as you can get for 180 people: long tables, salsa chips, limes and guacamole along all tables. I had no problem tucking into at least four tacos, white dress and all. There was no way I was going to miss out. Carnitas is my favorite, but they are all pretty damn good.

Champagne is overrated.

Inspirational taco memories?
My favorite taco memory is of a girl surf trip I took to Saladita. We would get up and surf from dawn, then come back and crack a beer and cook up some breakfast tacos, then sleep in the hammocks until we would do it all over again.

Tips for nervous brides?
Don’t let the wedding industry suck you in. Go with your own instincts of what works for you and your partner and remember that your friends and family are there to celebrate with you. So if you want tacos, paper plates and biodegradable forks, go for it and feel good about it.

Emma + Pat = Tacos

El Moro's churros con chocolate (photo by Tyler Gourley)

Everyone knows that a properly-made churro is a thing of beauty: The way I see it, it’s all about ratio. It has to be mostly crispy on the outside (the ribbed, stick shape is the perfect vehicle for this), a little bit creamy on the inside, overall a tad chewy, hot (but not tongue-burning) and dusted with just enough crunchy sugar and cinnamon to hit the mark somewhere between pleasurably sweet and wincingly so.

I’m also very aware of how bad a cold churro can be: A leaden, chewy guilt-trip. If you’re going to indulge, it better be good.

I’m excited to report that Telmo has been working hard on our churros recipe. In fact, just a couple weeks ago we invested in a new fryer, specifically to be used only to make churros. (Put it this way: Churros fried in the same oil that we use for our fish=gross).

Churros are made with what is essentially a pate à choux—the same dough used to make everything from eclairs to crullers to beignets—and pressed directly into hot oil through a pastry bag with a star tip. Telmo’s most recent inspiration has been the churros from the famous Churrería El Moro in Mexico City where they make some pretty great specimens. I think they’re made even greater by the fact that the servers, who are by no means particularly young, wear old-school, maid-like outfits, complete with white aprons, which would be weird at Tacolicious but really add to the whole flavor when you’re at a 75-year-old restaurant in DF.

Tacolicious's churros con chocolate (photo by me)

Our churros hit the right marks: They’re chewy, crispy, creamy, just the right amount sugary. Truth be told, I prefer them with cafe con leche, but we’re serving them traditionally with a rich, thick hot chocolate that turns them from just delicious into decadent. Come and get them while they’re hot.

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