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El Comidista couldn’t get enough of El Changarrito’s slogan “alta cocina casera”. But aside from the obvious contradiction in terms, and the general absurdity of culinary elitism (see feature article by Jeffrey Swartz), he was surely enjoying the fact that this tiny restaurant, with its two, stained, wrinkled, three-month-old “provisional” DIN A3 menus fundamentally, truly, deeply, does not scream ¡alta!
A find and a half, this mother-son taqueria, “desde el puritito México”, is authentic, affordable, and light years from modern. The locale they’ve chosen is thoroughly awkward with a cramped bar and an unbroken line of three tables crammed under the stairs. The two tables upstairs are a step from being inside the bathroom and while one appreciates the effort to increase capacity, one politely declines.
Of course, none of this matters one iota. Two-euro tacos are excellent right on down from pastor to cochinita pibil, a surprising papas con chorizo, the pollo and an Iturriaga-approved mole verde. The mole poblano is divine. The mini-nachos are no such thing, and for a fiver will leave you either fearing the full monty or dragging friends along for a team effort. A nacho split and a couple of tacos will do you right, leave room for a Negra Modelo, and keep you under a tenner.