We began at Cactus, a local staple known for their fish taco. Jesse made sure to warn us to squeeze copious amounts of lime juice on everything to dissuade any possible unpleasantness later in the night. This only enhanced the flavor the fried fish and shrimp any ways.
After our first snack we went to go check out all the old bar haunts of Jesse's Hollywood days until we got hungry again and ventured to Taco Zone, an all-female run truck with a huge following.
This was a treat, their specialty was cabeza, or beef cheek, which I'd never tried before.
It was most delicious. Maybe I just never knew to ask for it, but I haven't really run across cabeza on this coast. I hope I do soon...On to more debauchery, from Tiny's Bar to Jumbo's Clown Room and finally to Chato Taco to fend off drunken fools for some old-fashioned carne asada before bed. Tacos and beers. Beers and Tacos. Perfect night.
2 comments:
Fish tacos, carnage asada... somethings they just do right over there.
Remember when we made those korean burritos? They were the shit, but I still need to try that truck in LA.
Beefcheek in a taco sounds really good. Some of the tastiest cuts just need long, slow cooking -- then they're beyond delicious. (True for a beef stew or pot roast, too -- think chuck over round or sirloin.)
I bet a good deal of beef cheek ends up in sausages, if nothing else. Funny the parts of an animal we have squishy reactions to, if we think about them -- the "we" here being different people, so different reactions. I grew up with beef (especially veal) tongue as a great treat, and same with sweetbreads. And beef kidneys a great treat, too. (Fondest breakfast memories: (lightly) creamed kidneys on toast.) Liver wasn't even a stretch -- just delicious. But brain -- I simply don't want to think about eating brain. Irrational, I know, but I don't care. Tripe my mother did prepare a few times (distinctive smell throughout the house), but she didn't make us eat it, and I didn't get beyond a timid taste or two. All in my head, I know, but I didn't and don't care. You reach a point. But I never think about what I'm eating in a sausage -- brain, intestines, who knows what -- it's all fine with me in a good sausage.
Growing up, I always liked the way NJ Italians (Neapolitan, Sicilian) said capacola: gabbagool (or, "headcheese," as my mother translated it for me -- think beef cheek?). They made delicious sausage out of the word, too!
Oh for the old days of real butchers everywhere. My mother used to get sweetbreads really cheap (1930's and 1940's, NYC, and sometimes in 1950's and 1960's NJ) from butchers who otherwise would have thrown them out, since they there was no real market for them. Kidneys, too. (She was also good at befriending her butcher -- not by design. That was just my mother.)
Talk of beefcheeks is making me miss my mother!
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