Classic hole-in-the-wall tacos get a makeover (in looks alone) at El Tizoncito
STRAIGHTFORWARD, BUT NOT SIMPLE | The taste of the tacos at El Tizoncito are lush and authentic without any corporatizing; the fixin’s burst with freshness and flavor. (Arnold Wayne Jones/Dallas Voice)
ARNOLD WAYNE JONES | Life+Style Editor
The first time I introduced a friend to El Tizoncito, he wasted no time in chastising the staff. But not for the reason you might think.
“Your prices are too low,” he declared, anger rising in his voice. “I insist you raise them. This doesn’t seem fair.”
He was both right and wrong. El Tizoncito may look like a formulaic, corporatized interpretation of a taco chain … but it only looks that way. Yes, there are several in the Dallas area (including one along Lemmon), making it, technically, a “chain.” Yes, it has slick counters and a fancy logo and accepts American Express. But the heart of this place isn’t a boardroom, but a barrio. The owner, Leo Spencer, is a proponent of the store-front, Spanish-speaking variety. There are plenty of taquerias in town run by Mexican immigrants that charge a buck or two per delicious taco. And at every one, I think the same as my fellow gringo said that day: They could charge much more.
Only they don’t, and they won’t. Because the taco is a thing in Mexican life, and the price is as much cultural as economic. Mexicans have known this for decades; it’s the Anglos who never bothered to venture south of the Trinity who have remained forever in the dark.
And that’s where El Tizoncito comes in. Spencer’s dedication to respecting that aspect of taco culture has borne one of the nicest taquerias in Dallas. Like my friend said, they could charge more — a three-taco plate runs from a low of $4.50 (a buck and a half each) to a max of $8, and that’s really more an all-the-fixin’s platter — but that’s not Their
Way. And bless them for that: They are bringing the secrets of street food to the mainstream.
“We want to not be a hole-in-the-wall,” Spencer told me … they just want to taste like one: as everyone knows, hole-in-the-walls often make superb food — the trouble is finding the good ones unless you are in-the-know. El T makes that easy.
El Tizoncito — the newest, closest one to the gayborhood, on Lemmon, is just around the corner from the Hidden Door (it’s a perfect post-beer-bust protein fix) — is a clean, welcoming taqueria with flat-screen TVs and a fully-stocked bar. It’s surrounded by windows, giving it an airy, vibrant aura. The color palette is of fiery pastels (inspired, no doubt, but the restaurant’s namesake, the “tizoncito,” or charcoal briquette). It does look a bit corporate. But the food is authenticity incarnate.
The menu is straightforward, but it would be incorrect to call it simple. Yes, tacos are the specialty, but there are also Mexican standbys like flautas (crisp as a new dollar bill, thick and loosely wrapped with potatoes inside), quesadillas (fried firmly with a side of guac), soups and tortas (grilled sandwiches), as well as alambres (shish kebobs).
And, of course, botanas. Every diner sits down to a complimentary bowl of black beans (a warm and flavorful introduction). But you should start off with some of the unique appetizers. My favorite, the choriqueso, is a cross between cheese dip and a tostado: a rich blend of queso and chorizo slathered over lightly grilled tortillas. You don’t dunk a tortilla chip, you cut it up with a knife and fork, wallowing in the spiced sausage and the gooey cheese.
And you can dress it up as you like. Another standard item on the table is a tray of condiments: salsas (neither is especially spice, though the tomatillo with Serrano packs more heat even than the red sauce to my buds), chopped onions, cilantro and lime wedges, each fresher than the last. They’re also ideal for adding to the tacos.
And the tacos are to die for. Once again, simplicity understates the care. Served traditionally, on small corn tortilla doubled-up, they are filled sole with your protein of choice: grilled diced chicken, chopped beef, or the al pastor — pork marinated in cumin and other spiced, slow-roasted with in-house adobo, and accompanied by pineapple on the side.
That’s it. The rest is up to you: Mix and match salsas, add onions to taste, douse in citrus or just tackle them plain. There’s no going wrong; the basics are solid. The pastor is my favorite here, distinguished by the crisp edges and fiery red color. But there’s no going wrong.
The tacos arrive, you’ll note, on a paper-lined plastic basket. You’re not paying for bone china, and you don’t get it. You get, instead, great Mexican street food served by an attentive staff. It’s an entirely fair swap.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition September 13, 2013.