So we’re new to living in Houston but Wife has been working for a software engineering company here in town for four years. She’s awesome and everyone knows it. So, whenever we make it into town, there’s always a line of folk looking for her time. You know what that means: food and drinks. Today I wanted cheap tacos and tequila! I mean: We’re in Texas, right? A quick search of places nearby and Tacos A Go Go came up. My sweet Googling skills were confirmed by a 4-year native of the area when she said, “you know: Tacos A Go Go is right up the street…” We were off!

Tacos A Go Go. GO!

We drove up to an empty parking lot at (what looked like) an old, backwoods bar. The building had a metal roof, wooden wrap-around patio and shared parking space with a place called the Mirage Cabaret. What the hell do they sell there?! Inside were high ceilings and concrete floors, bare metal tables dotted the seating area; the wait staff cackled and shouted at each other from the floor, behind the counter and from the kitchen. Not at all professional, but that’s not why I was there. We sat down with our buddy who already had a pitcher of margaritas. The pitcher was sweating, stocked with ice and diced jalapeño; a special-request, off-menu item apparently. It was spicy, but that was its only saving grace. Aside from the nice, fresh bite of the peppers, the drink tasted like it came out of a plastic jug. That didn’t stop me from drinking almost an entire pitcher by myself, mind you.

After A Pitcher of Courage…

With a drink in me, we walk up to the counter looking to do some damage. I ended up ordering a fistful of tacos but started with an order of guacamole. It was under seasoned but still super fresh with cilantro and sweet red onion. My tacos arrived soon thereafter: Barbacoa, Grilled Shrimp and Carne Guisada. I filled my disposable soufflé cups with the four house salsas: a smoky chipotle; a tart, tomatillo-based chile verde; a spicy, earthy ground mix of red peppers, the name of which escapes me; and a bright, spicy, freshly food-processed mix of peppers, onion, citrus and cilantro lovingly labeled “Diablo”. That one was my favorite.

If you like lamb, you’d like the Barbacoa. It was gamey and pungent, well seasoned and it didn’t hurt that I absolutely drowned it in Diablo! In fact, all of my tasty little packages were equally covered. The Grilled Shrimp was hot and well cooked. The shrimp were, crisp and paired nicely with avocado slices, crema and queso fresco. But when I bit into the Carne Guisada, I had to stop. It was heavenly; dark and earthy, complex and heavy. You could tell it’d been cooking for a while. It was brightened up with a heaping helping of Diablo Salsa.

One More Time?

We chatted and joked while we ate and drank: the perfect combination after a long day. Our buddy asked how my food was and poured over her choice of Pastor and Picadillo. Of course, I went up and ordered those. You can’t just leave outrageous allegations like that on the wind! They were OK. The Carne Guisada may have spoiled me. I found the Pastor a bit sweet and the Picadillo just a little… blah… They were both cooked well and seasoned appropriately, but they were nothing like the earlier guys. I was also absolutely stuffed! Each of these tacos was only a couple bucks apiece and they were chock full of meat. (giggity) It was exactly what I wanted for the evening. (giggity giggity)

Let’s Be Real.

So how do I tie this one up? I enjoyed myself, but is it fair to judge the chef so harshly given that I went out expressly looking for something cheap. My tipsy self says “no! Don’t’ be that guy!” But the chef in me says, “shut up and do it, you donkey!” On a scale of tip-the-hat (low) to shank-the-chef (high) The Chef lives. The food at Tacos A Go Go was exactly what I wanted! I wanted cheap food that’d fill me up served by cackling and inattentive wait staff. But, with that, I’m not afraid to admit that I venture out looking to be pleasantly surprised. I was not. The cheaply made drink and waitstaff were enough to remind me that I was getting what I paid for and, that’s enough to let the battered, beaten and possibly spit-on chef go home to his family. You did good work, sir or madam! But I wasn’t taken aback. Maybe I’ll find that at the Mirage Cabaret. Dude! Seriously! I need to find out what the hell goes on in that store!

Chef Shanker

Keeping the world in balance.
Have you ever eaten something so delicious it made you angry?