Category: Taco Shops

Kirk is the wonderful host and main writer here at mmm-yoso!!! , but he lets others play in his sandbox too. Today ed (from Yuma) is here to tell you that more than just vampires lurk at this Taqueria.

Just wanted to do a quick post about the huge taqueria where I found the vampire tacos in San Luis, Sonora. Usually we think of getting tacos at stands, trucks, and carts. Of course, you can also get tacos at most Mexican restaurants, but real restaurants have all kinds of other things on the menu. El Chipilon is remarkable for being a large restaurant that serves primarily just tacos.

On my last visit there, the pollo asado taco was exceptionally flavorful, though you can’t tell that from this picture:

The chicken had a wonderful flavor, a hint of char, and a moist and succulent interior. Much better than the rather undistinguished version I had had previously. A quick visit to the charcoal grill showed me why the taco was so much better that day:

That afternoon the chicken came straight off the grill and onto my taco. From this next pic, You can see that this taqueria prepares meats in vast quantities, so the quality of any item will vary depending on how long it has been on hold:

The positive side to this mass production is that the cooks can satisfy 50 to 60 tables full of hungry partiers all at once, chopping up the meats with skill and speed:

Friends tell me that the place is busiest and completely packed at 2:30 a.m. on Friday and Saturday nights (more precisely, on Saturday and Sunday mornings). After all, what better way to end an evening of drinking and clubbing (and the drinking age in Mexico is 18) than to have a few great tacos?

And of course, all the tacos come with the wheel of condiments (and grilled veggies and house salsa):

Along with vampire tacos, this place does one other unique and distinctive taco – the Super Taco Chipilon:

Basically, just a cheese and carne asada soft taco (which is called a caramelo taco – see this link (thanks Alex)), this Super Taco Chipilon is  loaded with moist and flavorful beef, and the white cheese lays atop a roasted green chile. What’s not to like? The combination of mild white cheese, carne asada, and green chile all enfolded by a yellow corn tortilla – with its touch of natural corn sweetness – provides a nice balance of contrastive flavors.

As good as these two types of tacos are, my favorite non-vampire at El Chipilon is their version of al pastor:

They don’t skimp on the meat. Most al pastor in Yuma is done with a dry rub, but this succulent pork flesh is carmelized and almost glazed and has a slightly sweet flavor note that surprised me the first time that I tasted it. It was only later, when I looked at this close up of the meat, that I began to speculate about the origins of this style of al pastor with its distinctive flavor:

Doesn’t this look a lot like Chinese barbecued pork – if it had been cooked over open flames? I’m not saying that al pastor estilo El Chipilon is unique, because I’ve eaten similar looking Mexican pork before, but the hints of sweetness in this meat made me wonder if there might be some Asian connection. Someone more knowledgeable than me has pointed out the profound influences that Mexican and Chinese food have had on each other along Mexico’s northern border with its large Chinese population. Some claim that Chinese cooks invented the chimichanga, so maybe it isn’t too fantastic to suggest that this shepherd style pork, which is often cooked on a Lebanese style spit, sometimes exhibits the finishing touch of some Asian pig herder (which seems appropriate considering that no one has ever shepherded pigs). Small world really.

How are the prices at El Chipilon? Well, no prices are listed on the menu, and I didn’t do any bargaining before ordering, so I suspect we paid the gringo rate.  Nonetheless, 16 tacos (8 deluxe and 8 regular), 4 Pacificos, an order of beans, and a large jamaica came to $30 American. Seems fair to me.

The blog is mmm-yoso!!! Sometimes (like today) Kirk lets one of his friends do an entry at  the blog. Today ed from Yuma writes about his cross-border pursuit of the elusive VAMPIRE taco. It really won’t be scary at all – I promise.

Beginning last November,  a friend of mine who teaches English as a second language began hearing from his students about vampiras — vampire tacos. He kept regaling me with stories about these mysterious treats, so soon I was driving down to the southern terminus of US Hwy 95 in San Luis (a city of well over 250,000 mostly located in Mexico, but with a smaller Arizona extension) on a mission to locate and sample the elusive vampire taco in its native habitat.

When I describe these tacos as elusive, I am really speaking of my difficulties in locating, tasting, and photographing them. My friend had convinced me that they were objects worthy of pursuit. However, my first two trips to a purported purveyor of bat tacos in San Luis Arizona (Nuevo Asaderos los Jarros) only convinced me that this was an establishment not open during the day – which I suppose is fitting for a place serving tacos vampiras:   

When I finally tracked down vampiras in San Luis Mexico, in my excitement I must’ve hit the wrong button on my camera because I mostly ended up shooting a movie of my right knee. Oops! I’m sure it had nothing to do with the Cervezas Pacificos. Then, a nighttime visit to Los Jarros in San Luis Arizona was a great adventure that resulted in some tasty vampire tacos, but few usable pictures.

Finally last weekend, four of us descended into Mexico just to taste and photograph tacos vampiras – and some other goodies – at Taqueria El Chipilon, a huge taqueria (two outside seating areas and one inside) located on Revolucion near 22nd:

As the menu indicates, this taqueria serves a range of different tacos, but at the bottom of the menu lurks the dark shape of the vampiras’ namesake, a vampire bat:

In a matter of minutes, four vampiras arrived at out table –  three of them having corn tortillas, the other flour:

At first glance, these tasty treats look much like ordinary carne asada tacos over stuffed with carne.   However, a closer inspection shows that the marinated beef pieces lie atop a thin layer of white melted cheese. Also distinctive are the browned scalloped edges of each of the tacos:

  A single bite makes instantly clear the difference between these and ordinary tacos. Instead of the soft tenderness of a regular tortilla, these tacos are crunchy.

Since they are filled with carne asada and not blood or bat flesh, why do vampire tacos carry their distinctive and unusual moniker? The answer to this question and the key to a vampira is the preparation of the tortilla. The tortillas are not just warmed, steamed, or deep-fried. Instead they are griddled until they are completely desiccated and charred and have begun to shrivel up, giving them the appearance of a bat’s wing (hey, use some imagination here, help me out) — hence the name vampira:

Sometimes when I describe vampiras, someone will say, "oh, that is just a tostada." And yes, the vampire taco shares the crunchiness of a tostada, but they are not tostadas. First, they have a concave shape, perfect for holding meat and toppings. Second, vampiras do not shatter as one bites into them, so they are intended to be eaten with one’s fingers. Every tostada that I have tried to eat by hand has sent tortilla shards and various toppings cascading down whatever shirt I was wearing, leaving an avalanche of guacamole, sour cream, and frijoles resting in my lap. So very not good. That does not happen with a vampira.

Another tasty feature of El Chipilon that improves the taste of their vampiras is the wheel of condiments served with the tacos:

In addition, grilled chilies and charred scallions along with cucumber and radish slices and an excellent spicy house salsa are also brought to the table:

The first time that I ate a vampira, I left it very plain so that I could savor the lightly marinated tender beef chunks, the mild cheese, and the tortilla. Later, thinking about the experience, I realized that vampire tacos have another distinctive quality. Because of their concave shape and because the crunch of the tortilla is protected by the layer of cheese, one can load up the taco with lots of various goodies. This one, for example, is covered with two kinds of salsa, guacamole, chopped onion, and chopped cilantro; if I wanted to, I could have added even more stuff. Nothing oozed out of either end, and a fiesta of flavors hit my tongue:

One of my fellow culinary adventurers even put some of the grilled green onions on hers.

So some vampires do come out during the day. My flying taco hunt was no wild goose chase.  Maybe my karma intended for me to return again and again to seek out and eat these tacos. I hope so; that’d be good karma.

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Sometimes, disappointments and frustrations can have positive results. In my search for the wonderful and rare vampires of the taco world, I was reminded of the tremendous culinary resource that is San Luis, Sonora, Mexico. Back in the 80s, when I was merely a visitor to Yuma, a trip to San Luis was a part of every visit to the area. And no trip to San Luis was complete without a meal or two at local restaurants. By the time I moved to Yuma, however, the road between here and San Luis seemed to be in constant repair, and the 20 minute drive more often took 35 minutes with detours and stops. At the same time, the overwhelming  majority of the local American tourist trade rerouted itself to the convenient tiny border village of Algodones, Baja California. Now, though, the road to San Luis is in good repair, and the return border crossing on foot at San Luis runs about 10 to 15 minutes (compared with over an hour at Algodones). Even more important for me is that San Luis Mexico is really Mexico. It is not overflowing with American tourists, and a walk along Obregon – the main street – exposes one not only to the sights and sounds of a truly foreign city but also to all of the fragrant and enticing smells of al pastor tacos, tortas de lomo, and birria. Large Chinese and mariscos restaurants abound. I will be back. I feel like somebody living in Mira Mesa who just remembered the existence of El Cajon Blvd and University Ave. Yum.