In my last post about my beloved tacos al pastor I commented on how my once pastor-centric life had become more or less dull after speculating that I had eaten in every pastor place around Denver worth mentioning. As usual I spoke too soon. Without thinking. I do that rather often and used to feel bad about it. Yet isn't speaking boldly without any thought to the consequences of one's words what it means to truly blog? I mean at the most fundamental level? The answer is yes. Unequivocally. And once again a reader showed me the light.
Thanks to you, astute reader, for sticking with me, as you first told me to check out El Trompito several years ago. Please take the presentation of this photo as an apology of sorts.
That's the world's best cello ensemble playing a symphonic celebration to you. It is also an example of
the internet at its best. Unfortunately, I am not writing to tell you about my time at the pastoral symphony pictured above, though it must have been delicious. No, instead I am writing about a more-or-less recent visit to the aforementioned El Trompito.
I had stopped by the south-side El Trompito at least four years ago early on a weekend morning when I was in full taco hunt mode (aka before kids). Mostly I stopped because of the name: Un trompo means "a top", as in the spinning toy kind, and is the common nickname for a rotating spit of pastor. So, I figured, there must be one inside. I got there just as they were just opening and the lady who I talked with seemed vague about the status of the spit. Weekend nights she thought. But she wasn't sure. Based on the hesitancy, I never made it back. That isn't surprising because if you don't live around -- or need to drive through-- Hampden where it meets Havana, there is really no good reason to go there. At least that is what I thought until I finally ate at El Trompito.
I visited just a couple months back, to meet one of the principal voice's of Westword's food writing: Mark Antonation. We met to talk tacos, and dive into some of Trompito's more unique regional items which he so
eloquently described in his own post. I was quickly diverted from the mission to sample "other" regional items on the Trompito menu by the modest spit of pastor on display behind the counter. I ordered three. There was other conversation. Something about another location (which the above reader told me about), something about being open for this many number of years. Mark and my wife talked at length about regional Mexican specialities, and the Mixiote they both ordered. Mark got all that down, being the real journalist of the two. I became singularly focused on the nice looking pastor behind the counter, then in front of me. Then I ate it.
The pineapple was grilled instead of being roasted on top, as many Denver places do, probably because there is not enough pastor demand (crazy, I know) to warrant placing a fresh pineapple on the top of the spit each day. This makes for a
shitty looking pineapple. A blog comment by none other than Ruth Tobias summed it up nicely:
It sorta does look like a stringy hummus I suppose. But it was real-- fruit that is-- and it was - as it always is-- the perfect accouterment to the sliced marinated pork that is pastor.
This taco was solid all around. Indeed, one of the better I have in Denver, though to be fair it has been a couple years since I made my way through all of them.
I also had another taco near and dear to my heart: chicharron en salsa verde. This is a simple taco, made by soaking crisp fried pork rinds in a tomatillo-based salsa. A lot of has to do with how good the salsa is, and for me the hotter the better. El Trompito version was not overwhelmingly spicy, but it did the trick. If you haven't tried this taco staple, please do. And Trompito is a good place to start.
Tacos. Although I have continued to eat them with at a disgusting pace over the past several months, I have truly missed not writing about them. Thanks again for pushing me back out to try El Trompito. I will eventually make it up to the north-side one... soon(ish). And keep the suggestions coming.
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