Denver al Pastor Take 11: El Divino, the Toluca Mexican Restaurant Roadshow

If you just started reading this blog over the past month you might think I was a paid staff member of the Toluca Mexican Restaurant in Westminster as three of my last five posts have had something to do with this taco-al-pastor refuge. This couldn't be farther from the truth, however, and the proof would be that in the hypothetical situation that I was a paid employee of Toluca, I would have long ago been fired for taking large bites directly from their beautiful spits of pastor. Also, before a couple weeks ago, I think the most time I have spent in Westminster is the time it takes to drive through it on highway 36. But that's not to say anything bad about our neighbors to the northwest-- in fact quite the contrary-- they might just lay the claim to fame of having the greater Denver metropolitan area's best taco al pastor.

As I was saying, I dined at Toluca a few weeks ago for the first time and was blown away by owner Victor's culinary repertoire and of course his superb tacos al pastor. I got word of this potential pastor goldmine via some pictures I was sent of a Toluca-made spit outside of the Museo de las Americas for April's First Friday Santa Fe art walk. So it seemed only logical that when the next first Friday came around that I should be there-- because if there is anything that can make tacos al pastor even better, it is eating them on the street.

When Toluca goes out on the road to cater they call themselves El Divino. This evening they were set up under a big white taco-tent in front of el Museo, bright red spit of pastor calling to me through the crowd, drawing me in like a moth towards a porch light on an otherwise dark street.

I said a lot of good things about the Toluca taco al pastor last post, and yes the taco al pastor outdoors at El Divino is even better than the restaurant version. Being that it is the same exact recipe and marinade, it offers more or less irrefutable scientific proof that the mere act of eating tacos on a crowded city street makes them better.

The asada on the other hand was average, though its flavor too was enhanced by the bustling Santa Fe First Friday pedestrian traffic. It was so crowded in fact that it was hard at times to even move (especially with a double stroller). With tacos in hand I found a spot of wall to lean on and watched the crowd push by. In spurts came vendors, tourists, freaks, propogandists, protesters, stilt people and of course taco lovers. The din of urban chaos was fantastic. Along with the familiar taste of marinated pork and pineapple in my mouth I felt I could have been on some bustling alameda in Mexico City.

Then the cops showed up. Not the riot police (if you were there that night, that was later), but the regular boys in blue, and just like that my little Mexico-urban-daydream came to a halt. I saw them out of the corner of my eye strolling down towards the tent looking way too bored. A bored cop can only mean trouble, and sure enough they puffed-up their chests and sauntered over to the back of the tent to have words with the man in charge. A jolt of reality reminding me we were still stateside: Turns out El Divino was a little too far onto the sidewalk.

Luckily El Divino wasn't shut down for the night--though they were scolded for an inordinate amount of time-- and after the boys in blue finally split, I stood there and watched the men and women under the tent for a good while longer before setting out down the street in hopes of glimpsing some piece of art that would match that perfect upside-down cone of marinated meat. It wasn't to be, though I was able to sample some more excellent food which I will hopefully get around to writing about soon.

El Divino, it turns out, is a perfectly appropriate name for an outfit that serves pastor this good. Victor and his Westminster-based family-crew are on the way to cornering the pastor market as far as I can tell in this town with a mobile outdoor set-up like this. If this tradition continues outside of El Museo it will continue to be one of Denver's most authentic taco al pastor settings. And what's more, Victor purports that he will start carving up tacos al pastor outside of his Westminster locations on the weekends all summer, so if you can't find El Divino out on the street, make a trip up north to Toluca-- it'll be worth your while.

Denver al Pastor Take 10: Toluca Mexican Restaurant in Westminster

You know that taco smell? Not the enticing aroma of chopped meat sizzling over grill, but rather the odor that lingers on your clothes and hair-- that seems to ooze from every pore of your body--after you spend any amount of time in any respectable taqueria. It is the smell you carry into your office after a taco-lunch at which your co-workers jealously sniff in the air as you pass. It is the smell in your lovely wife's hair as you snuggle up and fall into a restless taco sleep after a late-night taco run; and it is the smell that you still have on your jeans when you go to put them on the next day. And although I don't dislike this clingy olfactory residuum on my clothes, breath and wife; I must say that it is not the most agreeable smell on a baby.

I learned this a couple weeks ago when my wife and I dined out for the first time with our babies at Toluca Mexican Restaurant in Westminster-- and even though the righteous taco-smell we left with forced us to  change and sponge down our babies once home, Toluca is much more than a taqueria. In fact they have a full bar and a large, though minimalist, and mostly pictorial menu that includes a wide variety of Mexican specialties. But it wasn't carne asada or menudo that we were here for. No, I dragged my family all the way up to Lowell and 92nd specifically for some tacos al pastor thanks to some some enticing photos sent to me a few weeks back.

Tacos al pastor are, of course, my raison d'etre (if you remember, they even made their way into my wedding) so when someone shows me pictures like that it doesn't take long for me to track down their source (although it takes me longer these days that ever before). When we arrived at the out-of-the-way strip mall from whence aforementioned spit originated I immediately asked to see the meat-stack they had going that night; and when I asked if I could take a picture, they invited me right back into the kitchen to check it out.

The staff at Toluca is incredibly friendly and inviting. They seem to do their best to take care of each and every customer, and for people like me that show a particularly keen interest in the going-ons of the kitchen, they are especially cordial. In fact after I had snapped a few photos it wasn't long before Victor, the affable patriarch of Toluca came out to talk with us himself.

By this time we had before us heaping plates of tacos al pastor and tacos de pescado. He introduced himself and immediately we began talking pastor. The first thing he did was apologize for the small size of the current spit, which as we all know is meaningless when it comes to taste, but nonetheless Victor was right: more pastor is better. When he sensed that I was more than a casual eater of tacos al pastor he disappeared into the kitchen and emerged seconds later with his secret spice rub for me to sniff.

This is a most unusual from my experiences in my wife's native Mexico City, where pastor recipes are guarded with ferocity and debate rages on not only about which taqueria has the best, but who invented it in the first place. But Victor is from a small town in the state of Puebla, so I guess he is more relaxed about those things, and it's not like he told me all the details-- but a whiff of the rub mix was strong with cumin and garlic.

It turns out that Victor is really passionate about his cooking. A few minutes later he emerged from the kitchen with a mole that he had just made from scratch. "No Doña Maria in there," he told us, referring to the ubiquitous (and remarkably decent) grocery-store jarred mole. "Mole Poblano," he proudly told us again. Made from scratch. Making mole from scratch is a tedious and delicate process and his did have the complex taste of a well-crafted version: smoky heat, bitter, earthy and rich. I was becoming more and more impressed with Victor and his little Westminster outpost.

It turns out he has always had a penchant for food. He started out years ago making carnitas at home and slinging them from his car by the kilo all over Denver and Aurora. He then did the same with tacos and as his business grew he took over Toluca Mexican restaurant a year ago.

At this point I had not had a chance to take more than a couple bites of my pastor, and as happy as I was to talk food with this man, my first bites of pastor were so good that I was practically drooling over my plate as he talked to us. Indeed these tacos al pastor are among the best I have had in Denver, and I can see how outside over open flame sliced right onto a taco (how Victor does it when he caters outside) it could be unrivaled in the metro area.

Besides the almost perfect taste, my favorite part were the absolutely perfect slices: thin, delicate and slightly charred; crispy but with plenty of marbled layers of gooey fat. Exactly how pastor should be sliced. Fresh pineapple balanced the bold flavor of the marinade and I'll say it yet again because it bears repeating: a superb taco al pastor.

The slice of pastor is ever-so important and I appreciate the efforts that Victor and his taquero go through to make every slice so thin and delicate. Too many taquerias take a great marinade and just about ruin it by carelessly hacking away at the meat, resulting in big, uneven chunks. In the US this has become all too commonplace and I let it slide because options are few and far between, but in Mexico City, the arguable home of pastor, these places wouldn't last a week with hack knife-jobs like that. In fact in the DF they take it to another level altogether and slice so quickly and deftly that the slice literally flies through the air and is caught on the tortilla-- never once touching a hand or plate.

It wasn't too long before I had mowed my way through the huge taco plate and ordered two more small tacos al pastor. It was at this time that Victor engaged us in a conversation about another hard-to-find Mexican specialty, Chiles en Nogada. This seasonal dish is served in conjunction with Mexican Independence Day in September and is a gloriously patriotic plate of a stuffed roasted chile (green) topped with a cold sauce of walnuts and goat cheese (white) and sprinkled (red) seeds of a pomegranate. He wanted my wife in particular to sample his sauce as this is one of her absolute favorites, and while his sauce had more of a heavy sour-cream taste (versus delicate goat cheese), it was still quite good and is another item that will keep us on the hook to return soon.

Before I forget, my wife's fish tacos were also very good. A mixture of shrimp and grilled fish, they were fresh and the fish was not over-cooked. It was no taco al pastor, and I can't imagine a scenario that would have me ordering those tacos while that spit of meat was roasting so close by. Nevertheless, if fish tacos are your thing, I would venture to say you would like these tacos.

I got my second round of tacos and as I was going to take my first bite Victor signaled to me as he was coming out of the kitchen. Beaming, he tilted the plate in his hand so I could see the perfect Mojarra Frita he was about to serve. He gave me a look like, "You know you want this." I did, but I was too full of pastor.

Before leaving I did something that I almost never do. I told Victor what I do in my spare time and told him I would like a picture for my piece. He responded the way most taqueria-owners do when I tell them: "A blog?" Then a look that either says: "What the hell is that?" or "What's wrong with you?" But true to his amiable ways he consented with a big smile even though I'm not sure he understood exactly what I wanted to do with this picture, and brought me back into the kitchen so that his family and cook could pose as well.

Toluca Mexican Restuarant is home to some great tacos al pastor but I also saw--and sampled-- a lot more. Victor and his mostly family-led crew are attentive hosts and purveyors of excellent Mexican food from tacos to regional specialties like his mole poblano and chiles en nogada. And in addition to being a family-friendly restaurant they do have that full bar along the back wall (which always makes family-time much more fun). So I encourage you to head on up to 92nd and Lowell in Westminster to visit Victor and company for some of Denver's finest pastor.

Tacos de Trompa con Victoria at Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet

A few weeks ago on a Saturday I left my house without my wife and without my kids. It was a moment to celebrate as it was my first night out with a couple friends since my boys were born--never mind that my "night" lasted from about 5:00 in the afternoon until 8:00 in the evening, when after eight tacos and two Victorias I was thoroughly and utterly spent. But this post isn't about my exciting night life, but rather--as is often the case on my blog (and life)-- it is about a taco.

Thanks to Lori Midson, the versatile and talented Westword food-writer who also happens to share a passion for great tacos (and know her way around some of Denver's finer taco spots), our first stop that night was Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet. Located in a complex on East Colfax that also includes the Fruteria Guadalajara and the Panaderia el Molino (both worth a stop), the buffet, as implied in the name, is the main attraction here and indeed looked enormous and enticing. I made a mental note to return in the future to sample its plenitude, but then made my way to the back where they were slinging a taco that Lori Midson pegged as one of Denver's 100 best dishes for 2011: the pig snout taco.

I have sampled a lot of parts of the pig in taco form. When I first would visit the woman who would later become my wife in her native Mexico City, one of her favorite pastimes was to take me to markets like the Mercado de Tlacoquemecatl and feed me taco after taco of unidentifiable pig (and cow) parts.

In Mexico, like many other parts of the world not in the United States, the "head-to-tail" philosophy is not a growing trend, but rather an old tradition and way of life. In these trips we ate literally everything from head to tail, or in our case ojo (eye) to nana (uterus). Imagine if you will the iconic image of a young couple sharing their first milkshake: straws crossing and lips meeting for the first time-- replace the milkshake with a half-dozen tacos of unidentifiable offal and you get a snapshot of our courtship. Now you can see why I fell head over heals--literally-- over tacos de cabeza and tostadas de pata.

The taco counter in the back of the Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet sells meat by the kilo but will also make you individual tacos from whatever they have. We ordered a variety that included carnitas, pastor, buche and of course, trompa.

The pastor did not come from a spit as far as I can tell and as was to be expected was forgettable. It wasn't bad but was more like adobada than pastor. The carnitas on the other hand were divine. I just had a bite of one, but agreed with my tablemates that they were some of the finest carnitas I have had in Denver: moist and rich with flavor.

Next I had a taco de buche. Buche is pig stomach, or more specifically esophagus. Like most tripe it can have a chewy texture, though when well-prepared as it was here it was succulent, soft and big chunks of digestive tract piled high on a corn tortilla. I ordered two, and though the first was good, I had to save room for what I came here for, so I took one home to my wife. (Note: re-heated buche is not all that good the next day.)

Finally what we had come here for: the pig's snout taco. Indeed as advertised by Lori Midson it was an amazing taco. The snout, or trompa, had a texture like that of slowly braised pork belly. The taste was salty--but not too salty-- and smoky almost like Canadian bacon but with extra bits of fat. It was a fantastic taco.

Oink. Oink.

With our tacos we had a round of Victorias. My first taste of Victoria in the US. While every other beer from Mexico's two mega-breweries has always been imported into the US, Victoria's slogan has always been "Es Nuestra", or "It's ours". I guess it is a sign of the times that Victoria is finally being sold in the US-- and as the Mexican population continues to boom, "Es Nuestra" takes on a whole new meaning stateside (Think George Lopez instead of George Clinton singing: "Gainin' on ya!" ). I have to admit, however, that although I have always said Victoria is my first choice of the many Mexican lagers, it somehow tasted not-quite-as-good knowing that it is now available in the States. It's funny how that works sometimes.

I'm not sure where I would put this taco de trompa on my list of top 100 favorite foods as I get confused counting once I run out of fingers and toes. That being said, it is one of the better tacos I have had in Denver and I will now make it a regular stop on my Aurora circuit-- a list that is growing longer and longer.

Sue of Siam, Now Ban Thai, Still All Thai Smiles

Take out is slowly replacing going out as my new adventures with baby twins continue. I've been craving Thai for a while, and although not exactly the closest Thai place to my home, I recently had my mind set on the homemade Thai tastes of Sue of Siam on Del Mar Circle and Peoria in lovely Aurora. It had been a while since I been in these parts--and I was never what you would call a regular-- but one thing I remembered well about Sue of Siam was being greeted by the smiling Suni and her family. You can imagine my surprise then, when I walked in a couple weeks ago to find Sue of Siam without its main attraction: Suni herself.

It turns out that despite the signs outside still advertising the authentic Thai cuisine of Sue, she has since retired and sold the business to another family. So instead of being greeted by a smiling Suni or her daughter, I was received by an older couple watching Wheel of Fortune-- also all smiles--who proceeded to tell me how they bought the place from Suni a couple years ago. Like I said: not a regular.

The only other change in the restaurant besides the new name, Ban Thai (on the menu only), is a large freezer that hums loudly in a corner. Otherwise, this new smiling Thai couple had left the dining room as it was--that is, relatively sparse save for a few portraits of the Thai royal family. They also seem to have inherited the same customer base. Sue of Siam was never packed, in fact more than once my wife and I were the lone diners there on a weekend night, and though there must have been enough loyal regulars to keep it up and running, they never seemed to go there on the weekends. Ban Thai was as empty as I always remember Sue of Siam being.

I ordered my food from what essentially seemed like the same menu save one item: a duck dish that I absolutely loved but didn't see listed. I asked for it. I couldn't remember clearly what it was, but the husband half of the team just nodded, said something in Thai to his wife who was already in the kitchen and turned back to me, smiling: "Duck Curry."

He must have sensed my doubt that his wife would cook this dish as well as Suni because he immediately began explaining to me how all the recipes were the same as when Sue's was open. He then motioned for me to sit at the counter and poured me a tall glass of green tea. "Cold outside," he said.

It was indeed cold that night and the tea was perfectly brewed, simple and just what I needed to wind down after a long day of twin-raising. He must have also known the look of man worn out from child-rearing, because the next words from his mouth were, "You have children?"

"Yes," I told him, "Twin boys."

And before I had the time to say anything else his omnipresent smile grew even bigger as he put the fingers and palms of both hands together under his chin and said, "Ice cream."

He pulled out the menu and pointed to where it read "Coconut Ice Cream" and, with a smile said: "They like ice cream," as if it were an obvious fact rather than a question.

"Yes," I told him, not wanting to take away from the generosity of this gesture by telling him that my boys, only six weeks old at the time, wouldn't know ice cream from the shit in their own diapers, "Yes, they do."

After all, I was having a proud father moment. This was the first time I had ever been able to respond in the affirmative to a stranger that I was indeed a parent, and in a roundabout way-- that is, through my wife's breast milk-- the boys would be getting a taste of that ice cream eventually.

He hurried over to the freezer, pulled out a tupperware container and then disappeared behind the kitchen counters. I smiled and sipped on my tea, and for a few minutes found myself perfectly relaxed for the first time in weeks; feeling warmed, welcome and-- with the sounds of noodles frying in a wok and the aromas of Thai chiles coming from the kitchen-- hungry.

He came back out with a scoop and starting piling the ice cream in to a take-out container. He told me it was homemade, one of the items that he and his wife added to the menu. I joked to him that the ice cream might not make it home because it looked so good. "I know," he said, reading my mind once again. Then he smiled and showed me the spoon he put in the bag, "I give you your own spoon for the car."

It did make it home... but look how good.

I chatted some more with this kind-hearted Bangkok native, and he listened patiently to me tell him about the time my wife and I were in Bangkok and how much we loved it. Meanwhile Wheel of Fortune had turned to Jeopardy and my food was ready to go. I almost didn't want to leave, because despite the barren space of this lonely location it continues to be a comfortable and relaxing place.

Driving home I did try to figure out a way to shift gears and eat the ice cream while not killing anyone on East Colfax, but I decided it couldn't be done. When I got home my wife and I immediately set in on the bounty that was our first take out since the boys were born.

The first dish that we tore into was the duck curry. The duck was well-roasted and once likely had nice crispy skin but it was a little on the chewy side in this dish. Otherwise it was an excellent and unique combination of sweet and spicy with big colorful chunks of pineapple, green bell pepper, tomatoes and grapes. The strong aroma of Thai basil tied it all in together and it was an overall great bowl of curry.

My wife for whatever reason is not a big fan of duck, so even though it was a little redundant, we also had ordered a pineapple curry, which was always my wife's favorite Sue of Siam dish. This one came with pork (pork and pineapple of course one of my favorite combinations) and though not as rich (or good, in my opinion) as the duck, it was just as I remember from Suni's days.

The pad Thai was where Ban Thai fell short when compared to Suni as far as I can remember. Although to be fair we ordered it mild (breast milk thing) versus always having had it spicy in the past which I admit is a lame way to eat pad Thai. Even after I tried to spice mine up with some red Thai chile-garlic sauce it was still a little bland and forgettable.

The drunken noodles with beef were solid. I had been told to also order mild with this dish, and I thought I did, but they were rather (refreshingly) spicy. That only meant more for me, and I happily devoured as much as I could after eating my fill of duck curry.

The coconut ice cream was absolutely amazing. Rich in wonderful creamy coconut flavor but light and airy in texture. Like any great dessert it was somehow easy to stuff in our faces even after eating more than our fill of curry and noodles. We did the best we could to save some for later, but we all know how that goes.

The food at Ban Thai might not quite be everything that it once was under the masterful hand of Suni, but the tradition of a warm and inviting place for comfort Thai continues. So even with the ownership changes, it is still a good option for Thai food with great prices.

First Fridays With Tacos al Pastor: Museo de las Americas and Toluca Mexican Restaurant

Needless to say, as my life continues to revolve around the every want and need of two beautiful little boys, my going-out-to-eat-life has suffered dearly; and even though I have been peed on more in the last two months than all of R. Kelly's teenage girlfriends combined, I move forward with a degree of love and devotion that I have never known before.

Take this example: Two nights ago I received an email about 7pm from a man with a picture of four incredible-looking tacos al pastor that he reported were just shaved off the spit and given to him (without being grilled a second time) on the street in front of the Museo de las Americas. Now normally this sort of email would be my bat-signal: I would have slid down my bat pole and rocketed off in my 1995 4-cylinder station wagon. But alas, I don't even keep the bat-pole greased anymore, as the spontaneous decision-making that has dictated my life up until now takes a backseat to new and exciting-- albeit at times overwhelming-- responsibilities.

That being said, just because I am lovingly chained at times to a crib and changing table doesn't mean that you out there reading this blog shouldn't continue to go out an enjoy life, so I thought I would share this important taco-al-pastor-related news flash. 

According to this reader, these tacos are from a taqueria called Toluca in Westminster near 92nd and Lowell, which when out on the road is called El Divino. I had actually been tipped to this location last year, but when I called them they said they didn't have their pastor on a spit. One look at the following picture and it was clear that there was some sort of grave miscommunication.

Now that is art worthy of a First Friday art walk. (It is also clear that this reader is a much better photographer than me.) Allow me to continue to live vicariously for a moment through his words: 

I'd probably say these are the best tacos Al Pastor that I've had in Denver...the meat is cut directly off the spit into a tray as you order and is loaded directly on to your tortillas. The tortillas were quite good but the meat was definitely the star of the show with a nice flavorful marinade and good marbled texture. Slices are thin, which I like, and they are generous with how much goes on the tortillas. I had a plate of 4 tacos with fresh pina (unfortunately not on top of the spit) for $5...Ultimately, I enjoyed the hell out of the tacos so I have no complaints.

Tantalizing, no? Apparently there is a good chance that the Museo de las Americas will bring El Divino back for the next First Friday, so mark your calendars and cross your fingers that your art-and-wine-filled walk on May 6th (that is Cinco de Mayo weekend--could get interesting) will culminate in eating from this towering sculpture of marinated meat.