This is an American story.
An American Story about
an American Restaurant. An American Story about an American
Restaurant in America
that serves Mexican Food—prepared by Mexicans,—in the newly redefined, for the purposes
of this astutely written restaurant review, D.C. Metropolitan Area, AKA, The
The D.C. Metro—a land of immigrants, situated
on and between a swampy area and two polluted rivers, once wanted by no one,
now coveted by all, donated to the fledgling government of the United States of
America, for a minor fee equaling no more than several hundred times the cost
to the original owners who stole it from dead redskins, as the site for the
future capitol of the most power country in the world—The United States of
America. A land
known, in Federal Law Enforcement parlance, as a “100% Mexican Free Work Zone.” A Land without Mexicans. A land where there are indubitably more liars
claiming to operate Mexican food restaurants than there are Mexicans and an
even greater number of self-deluded fools willing to pay money to eat
there. And, not only do none of them
have a clue whatsoever as to what Mexican food is, the overwhelming majority of
them wouldn’t know a Mexican from a French Canadian if they saw them standing
next to each other in a crowd of two.
Alas, the D.C. Metro is A Land Without Mexican
Which is why, for the purposes of this
even handed, balanced, unbiased, keenly and astutely, not to forget cogently,
written restaurant review, the boundaries of the D.C. Metro, the capitol region of the most powerful country known to man,
have been redrawn.
The easiest way to get to the closest of
these old time rarities of days when people roamed the United States as if they
lived here is to go south on Interstate 95, about 710 miles from the Washington
Monument, until you reach Interstate 10 (Jacksonville, Florida), then go west
until you get to the Highway 29 off ramp in Pensacola, Florida, about 400
miles. This is the same Hwy 29 that
passes through Falls Church, Virginia,
and Rosslyn, Virginia.
From that intersection, go South on Highway 29 about 2 miles and it is
on the left. This fine dining
establishment is called, “Taqueria Taco Rock.”
“Taqueria” translates as “Taco Shop” and, in the more traditional parts
California—it is either pronounced “Tah-kay-ria” or “Taco
Chop.” The building housing the
restaurant used to be painted with some traditional Guanajuato style colors
(politely and modestly described as “gaudy” or “outlandish”), but the Florida
culture has had its impact and the building has recently been painted in toned
down Florida pastels.
This review and report focuses on the
“Taco Rock” taqueria in Pensacola,
Florida. The next closest such restaurants, that I
know of, are the El Cuervo Taco Chop on Washington Blvd, in San Diego, and the
Alberto’s Taco Chop at Wisconsin and Hill, in Oceanside, California.
The owners, or original owners as I knew them, are from Mexico
City—genuine Chilangos (Mexican slang for person from Mexico
Their employees and cooks come from all over Mexico. These fine men are all men, true men,
masculine men, men who wear leather belts with large buckles that have images
of bulls on them and leather western boots, men who wear black cowboy hats to
the cantinas on Saturday nights, get drunk, tell their women they love them
order them naked into bed, fall down, puke and pass out—though not always in
that order. But
mostly, Men who produce a truly fine and masculine taco or bowl of savory
menudo (beef tripe and hominy stew).
And the young women who work the counter and cash register and the drive
through window, are all women, real women, women with genuine and authentic
made-in-Mexico-by-God’s-own-hands breasts and hips—no made in Taiwan plastic
parts allowed—with rich full lips begging to be kissed and even white teeth
that flash in their smiles, deep warm eyes, and long black hair pulled severely
back to outline the elegant profile of their Mayan heads. Women of true depth who prefer masculine men
with powerful sex drives and strong turgid sex organs—these are not the sort of
women Lou Dobbs would be attracted to.
Taco Rock offers the five basic Mexican
food groups: tacos, refried pinto beans,
rice, corn tortillas, and salsa. The two
most basic, beans and rice can’t be beat east of the Colorado
River. The third leg of the
Basic Five, tortillas, has been restricted and otherwise adversely affected by
what is available locally. The frijoles
refritos are made with boiled, unseasoned (except for salt) pinto beans, lard,
white cheese, and elbow grease and the rice is cooked with a little lard, fresh
tomatoes, long green Anaheim Chile’s, onions, garlic, oregano and salt. Some dishes also contained potatoes that are
fried with onions and green chilies—very flavorful. The fourth pillar, salsa, is alive and well
and rich with tradition. They use fresh
chilies, onions, garlic, oregano, cilantro and salt in all their salsas. Their “mild” is flavorful with a mild
bite. Their “hot” is blazing with
The food is genuine and probably not
much different from what one might expect from a Mexicali Abuelita
Taco Rock dishes are made fresh with
basic Mexican ingredients prepared fresh from scratch. No prefab entrees ready made for the
freeze-dried-add-water-heat-and-serve “refried beans” with reconstituted freeze
dried cheese sprinkled over the top. No bottled salsa that tastes like
spaghetti sauce, Campbell’s
Tomato Soup, or some ill advised raspberry flavored desert sauce. They don’t use effeminate spices or offer
effeminate Hollywood style Faux Cuban or Costa
Rican Black Bean Soup—this is MEXICAN food.
They use truly masculine, traditionally Macho Mexican ingredients in
their tacos: 2 fresh steaming hot and
plump corn tortillas wrapped around a chunk of meat just dripping with fresh
hot juices and served dripping with fresh salsa at your table, by a properly
rounded, firm bodied, dark haired, dark eyed chica canelita (cinnamon skinned Mexican
babe—see additional descriptions above), with well shaped full lips that open
easily into a wide well formed dazzling smile.
On Sundays, similarly bountiful young woman serve a masculine beef tripe
and hominy stew at your table. And they
use genuine honey comb tripe when they make it.
NOTE: These spices DO NOT include
CUMIN. This MEXICAN food, NOT Arab!
Just like in Old Mexico.
You can’t get much more Mexican than
They don’t offer the California Taco,
also known as the “Taco Dorado” (Golden Taco) a centuries old tradition in California, dating from before the days we stole it from Mexico,
involving a single corn tortilla, folded over shredded beef or roast pork or
beef mammary glands and fried, in lard, to a golden crispness. According to the owner, he offered these for
a while but the local Northwest Florida population
seems to prefer the Taco Bell or Del Taco style taco. So he offers those instead. But, as compensation for his compromised
integrity he charges $5 each, and Northwest Floridians
pay it because these Taco-Bell-like delights are made by true to life taco
Simply put, from the incorrectly
displayed flags and unlikely paint job to the misspelled menu items to the
hardworking friendly staff and fine food, they don’t come any more genuine than
the Taqueria Taco Rock. A genuine, World
Class Traditional Mexican Taco Chop of the highest qualities.
Florida, life is good for Aficionados of comida Mexicana.
God Bless America.
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