Denver al Pastor Take 15: Los Toritos

If you have read this blog for some time you might remember my former Chicago roommates, Michael, for his passionate, almost physical love of fried chicken skins; and Brian, for his ridiculous obsession with all food Asian. We had a lot of memorable meals together, but one thing that stands out in particular was a taqueria not too far from our home (though we never knew exactly where) that delivered tacos al pastor at all hours of the night. There was no weather too harsh, no hour of the night too obscene and most importantly for us--though horribly unprofitable for them-- no minimum order. 

  

It became our reason for existence. Our mantra. No night out was complete without at least one taco al pastor. Long nights of reveling ended with drunken chants for pastor as we stumbled home. It got so bad (or so good depending how you look at it) that we would summon our poor taco courier at 3am for a single taco just to help us sleep. The taco al pastor, it was strong in us. 

Brian has lived in Denver for some time now though for many poor reasons I rarely see him. For some time we have tried to make plans to eat pastor together, and we finally met at a place that I have been meaning to check out for a while: Los Toritos on East Colfax. 

Waiting to meet someone in a booth at the mostly-empty Los Toritos sipping a Victoria, one feels a little like he might be in a 1970s-era film waiting to meet some questionable character to plan some elaborate illegal scheme. Despite the direct sun hitting the restaurants large windows, the interior was dim, the dark blinds only partway open. What light entered was dramatic and cast long shadows across my table. The booths were tall and deep, and several faux-brick archways framed the long bar, which was mirrored and full of tequila bottles. The place was empty save for a couple in a booth near me--all I could see was a tall sombrero. I glanced out the window at the gritty corner of East Colfax and Chester only to see Brian walking by. My Hollywood heist-planning daydream was broken. Time to eat tacos and drink more beer.

Los Toritos does have pastor on a spit, like it should, but only on the weekends. During the weekday, one can indulge in two-for-one cervezas but the pastor is coming pre-chopped and is going straight to the grill. It was Friday at 5:30, a borderline time to be considered a weekend so I called ahead to confirm the spit setup. I got an affirmative, though I didn't see it when I came in the door so I asked again. I was assured that yes, at this moment they were carving al pastor meat from a spit and serving it on tacos.

Fair enough, though I did never lay my eyes on it. We ordered four tacos and set into two more Victorias. When the tacos came out I took one look and was already disappointed. The meat was in large chunks, was minimally charred, and the pineapple was canned. The salsas were average and the taco was decent for a pork taco, and much less-so for a taco claiming to be al pastor.

But people kept coming in and the menu was extensive so we decided to try something else. Brian had never had an alambre, and it isn't everyday you find one on a Mexican menu so we ordered one.

An alambre is a Mexico City tradition, made by grilling meats, onions and peppers and mixing in shredded cheese at the end. What results is a grilled, gooey pile of cheesy meat that can be eaten as such or heaped onto a tortilla. The dish that came out at Toritos was indeed a splendid mix of meat including carne asada and hot dogs, but the bright yellow cheese was not even melted in with the meat. I don't completely mind the crappy cheese-blend, but not being cooked in with the meat really shows a poor understanding of what an alambre is all about.

Needless to say it was pretty bad. I love a mixed-meat product like a hot dog to complement my single-animal meats as much as the next guy, but the hot dog ratio was high in this alambre, drowning out the other meats and dominating the dish both in flavor and texture. We polished off our Victorias and headed out the door.

On the way out I saw they were setting up for a Karoake night with an elaborate mixer and video system. I am starting to think that there is a connection between Karoake nights and poorly executed food at places like this. Spend too much time worrying about the music and the food suffers.

Brian is always up for a food adventure, and I felt a little like I let him down with Los Toritos. To make it up to him I dragged him down to Tacos Junior to have a much, much better taco al pastor. I was pleased to see the quality has remained the same here, as I consistently rank them high on my Denver taco al pastor list.

Thanks again, Tacos Junior

After that it was off to have another drink and call it a night. We reminisced quite a bit about those tacos al pastor in Chicago. We couldn't even remember if they were good or not. They were certainly good enough. And we will always share a love of the pastor that transcends never seeing each other. In fact soon after our night out, Michael called to say he was making a rare visit to Denver for a reunion of sorts. Coincidence? Doubtful. The pastor, as I said, is strong in us. 

Denver al Pastor Take 3: Tacos Junior

It's been about a month now since I've written about tacos al pastor. It's not that I haven't been eating them, but I get stuck in a rut--albeit a very delicious rut--of going to the same two or three places because I know what to expect. One reason for starting this blog was to force myself to break out of that mold and start exploring some other places.

Tacos Junior is one of those places. Of Tacos Junior's several Denver metro locations, one is inside the Azteca Ranch Market on East Colfax at Moline in Aurora. I actually used to do a fair amount of shopping at Azteca, an adorably chaotic small Mexican grocery store that carries decent produce, has excellent butchers and of course, sates my Mexican wife's nostalgic cravings-- from fresh nopales to the South-of-the-border version of a Twinkie. So because of this, I've passed by Tacos Junior dozens of times, but always with a cart full of groceries and excuses; and even though their spit of pastor is larger than life, I never once stopped in.

This doesn't do it justice. It may be 3ft tall.

If you know me, or if you've read this blog a few times (I feel like I know you), you may think that this sounds crazy. What one would expect me to do upon seeing a spit of pastor this big would be to drop my groceries, leave my poor wife to sweep up the broken jars and load the car, and push my way to the front of the line. But I never did. In fact one time I actually drove two miles West down Colfax to Taco Mex to get my pastor after leaving Azteca because I was craving it so badly. Habits are a bitch, and as they say, die hard.

But it wasn't just me being set in my ways. I heard once that it was a large chain restaurant (I kinda hate those) from California or Texas or Northern Mexico (I'm pretty sure it's just a local chain), and the decor seemed kitsch and forced for my taste. The ceiling, for example, is painted with clouds and parrots, the taco counter is framed by a faux-eave that resemble a beach hut, and Jesus floats on the wall behind the cashier on a mural of a beach/ farm scene (maybe to keep an eye on the register). Whatever the reason, my taco instinct said, "no".

Jesus vacations in Tacos Junior.

So what brought me here after all these years? Just to find out what it was all about, I guess. And it is a oft-praised and popular (I mostly hate that too) taco stop. Plus, did I mention, the al pastor spit they have is incredibly huge? If nothing else it is likely the largest and most well-manicured spit of pastor around, and I have to respect that.

From big spits come big tacos. There is a lot of meat in the tacos al pastor here. And they come con copia, that is, with two tortillas, which are hand made, but nevertheless dry. The slices of pineapple are fresh, too, always a bonus in any Northern territory. The standard diced onions and cilantro top it off. The taste? It was good. I mean, it's pastor--but it wasn't great. It certainly isn't the best I've had in Denver. The first time I went the meat was not charred well if it was charred at all, and the beauty of proper pastor meat is that the slices are thin and tender, but also slightly charred. There should be a crispy, smoky first bite followed by tender sweetness with a spicy finish. This meat was way too sweet (in a bad way).

It looks like pastor...

A couple weeks later, I had second thoughts. I mean, that pastor spit was so beautiful it haunted me in my sleep. It is expertly cared for, and it is obvious that someone openly and without shame loves that over-sweetened hunk of marinated pork. Again, I respect that. So there I was standing in line and this time something I previously overlooked caught my eye: Taco Arabe. The Arabian Taco, an homage to the people who likely inspired the taco al pastor-- the Lebanese, is a specialty of Puebla. The Taco Arabe is a bunch of pastor rolled up with grilled onions and cilantro in a very thin flour tortilla, also known as pan arabe, (possibly an homage to the pita?). It even comes wrapped in that thin gyro-tissue-paper. I unrolled my mini burrito-gyro-looking thing and was happy to see that this time the pastor was sliced thinner and charred perfectly. I added some red salsa, rolled it back up and took a bite. These thin tortillas were better than the dry corn ones, and the taco Arabe was better than the standard taco, but still, even cooked properly, the pastor is too sweet.

Taco arabe, tacos de carnitas, sopes

My taco-sense (sort of like spidey-sense, but more delicious) was right about the pastor, but there are plenty of good things here. I highly recommend the deep-fried things: sopes, huaraches and picaditas-- all different versions of thick tortilla masa fried to a crisp. The sope is stacked tall with beans, meat, cheese, avocado and the works; the huarache is usually meat, beans and cheese only; and the picaditas are simply red or green salsa topped with fresh cheese. The salsas are fresh and spicy but the green has too much onion. The best meats are the carnitas and, suprisingly, the chicken, which is shredded in a chipotle sauce. The asada (steak) is good, but needed a lot of salt, which any God-fearing Mexican sprinkles on any taco regardless, so I guess it works out. Wash it all down with 32 oz of made-to-order fresh fruit or vegtable agua fresca of your choosing--everything from mango to cucumber.

Sope

Tacos Junior has all kinds of good stuff, and is worth a visit, but if you are in the mood for an authentic al pastor experience, keep driving. 11505 E Colfax Ave in Aurora. There's parking in the back, too.