There are few days of the week that I look forward to more than taco day.
I never know which day will be taco day. That’s part of the excitement.
It’s not a day as much as it’s a feeling, a fire in my gut that can only be quenched by unfertilized chicken embryos and starchy tubers wrapped up in a pan-fried mixture of flour, water, and fat. Add to that a mixture of gooey, melty cheese and chilled tomatillo salsa, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for the best day of the week: taco day.
Being from San Antonio, the birthplace of the breakfast taco––that’s right Austin. Come fight me––there are plenty of establishments I could custom to celebrate taco day. But, like any good taco connoisseur, I have a taco shop that I always go to first: Los Arcos.
There are quite a few criteria that influence a taco day taco shop decision.
First and foremost, how long is it going to go from order to stomach? I can walk to Los Arcos in seven minutes and 35 seconds, or eight minutes and 41 seconds, depending on the traffic signal timing. That’s 15 minutes from craving to satisfaction.
Tortillas may seem simple, when in reality, they’re everything but. Flour, water, and fat smushed flat in between two pieces of cast iron and heated to toasty, fluffy, crispy perfection on a griddle…they’re the delivery method, the boat, if you will, that ferries the tasty goodness of the breakfast taco into your mouth. Too thick and they become chewy. Too thin and they fall apart from the liquid gold poured on top. It’s a delicate balancing act that Los Arcos executes perfectly.
What goes inside the taco is irrelevant. It’s what tops the taco that truly makes or breaks the experience. But salsa is a lot like beer: there’s no such thing as bad salsa, it’s just that some salsas are better than others. It has to be spicy, but not too spicy. There should be enough onion to taste, but not too much to overpower. Then there’s the color. Red salsas are traditionally tomato based, while green salsas are a blend of jalapeños and tomatillos. Find your favorite. Find it and cherish it. Always ask for more than you need so you can eat it with leftovers or dip your own chips in it in the comfort of your own home.
Find a shop that meets these three criteria, your quality of life will improve drastically.
The point I’m trying to make is this: if you don’t live somewhere where breakfast tacos are readily available, why not? Make your own. Start a restaurant. Pass on the love of breakfast tacos to those in need. Because if we all had at least one taco day a week, I truly believe the world would be a better place.