I am aloft on a cloud of carne asada smoke right now, moved to my core by all of the incredible little taco trucks popping up along South 12th Avenue. It’s a roadside diner’s paradise out there among the tire shops, 99-cent stores and strip malls, and I, for one, am taking advantage of it.
But with such an abundance of choices, one must employ certain screening techniques. This is how I do it: Turn off the air conditioning, and open the windows. Focus on the air coming into the nostrils. When the proper smell drifts by, point the bumper in that direction. Park. Eat. Repeat.
Which is how I ended up at El Ta’Comiendo shortly after 8 a.m. this morning with a surprisingly large group of breakfast diners. What started as a simple food-truck adventure turned into a cultural “ah-ha!” moment when I realized many people favor tacos and tortas for their morning meal, whereas most people I know insist on eggs and potatoes or something sweet for their early-day repast.
Falling in step, I ordered a big asada burrito and loaded it with finely chopped cabbage and cilantro. Smoky red hot sauce amply applied, and lime squeezed, I dug in.