Filling the Void With El Rico Dicho Menuderia y Taqueria, For Now

As a food blogger who has chosen to write mainly about out-of-the-way and at times little-known places, it is the bitter irony of my online existence that I am by nature sentimental and nostalgic, for it is inevitable that many of the eateries I frequent will close, no matter how good the food (or the story) might have been. Yet despite all the heartbreak, I persevere undeterred, like Hugh Grant after Sandra Bullock in one of their 18 movies together after he realizes that he really can't go on living without her. Except for me Sandra Bullock is a new menuderia y taqueria on Havana and 6th and I knew I wanted her (it) all along.

"Taqueria, please just let me explain."

Such as it were I was in the former home of Tao Tao Noodle Bar sizing up a new wall menu full of Mexican standards. Looking back, I did try and go to Tao Tao not all that long ago, but it was, you guessed it, closed. Even though I'd never slurped back one of their famed xiao long bao, I was still a little sad to see it shuttered so suddenly. And when I saw that it was going to become a menudaria and taqueria, I had to make it back as quickly as I could, if for nothing else than to help it not turn into a cursed restaurant-swallowing hole.

Despite its tagline, I didn't come to El Rico Dicho Menuderia y Taqueria for menudo, as this spicy tripe broth is not as appealing on a Wednesday night as, say, a bleary-eyed Saturday crudo-nursing morning. But Rico Dicho is more than just menudo and tacos, and is a step up in decor and ambiance from your typical taqueria, even if that "step up" means a very literal dedication to the greatness of El Chapulin Colorado.

I met a couple of friends there and we ordered a spread of food that filled every corner of the table. Among the consensus favorites was a rich broth of carne seca. Carne seca translates to "dried meat", and that is exactly what you get. But the Rico Dicho Northern Mexico-inspired version is far from your typical jerky. We were comped a plate of these house made meat strips which we devoured along with a squirt of Tapatio and twist of lime: thin and crispy, yet surprisingly flavorful and not the least-bit chewy.

As for the broth? It was a rich beef broth filled with chunks of now-not-so-seca carne, and was balanced nicely by an assortment of chunky potatoes, carrots, onions and peppers. It was a decadent and hearty dish.

Rico Dicho also serves another typical Northern Mexico plate, called discada. Discada is named for the large disk-like wok it is usually cooked in, and is made up of a medley of chopped meats and veggies. It is much like a Mexico City alambre, but this discada of chorizo, carne asada, salchicha (hot dogs) was worlds better than any alambre I have had in Denver.

Speaking of chorizo (as I often do), it, like the carne seca, was made in house. For that reason we also got a plate of tacos de chorizo and were universally smitten with our choice. Mexican chorizo is like bacon in that one can add to about anything and that thing becomes better. And homemade chorizo on a warm corn tortilla makes for a can't miss taco. We also got an order of barbacoa tacos, in this case, beef cheek. Steamed and shredded beef cheek is a wonderfully rich and silky-smooth way to enjoy a cow, and simply spiced and served on a plain corn tortilla, this version absolutely killed.

I liked El Rico Dicho enough that I dragged my family back there a few days later for breakfast. My kids wolfed down their eggs, ham and beans; and I made my way through an enormous portion of an only average plate of chilaquiles made with too-thin tortilla chips that got overly soggy in what otherwise was a nice and spicy tomatillo salsa.

My wife ordered huevos de machaca, or scrambled eggs with carne seca. The carne seca was liberally proportioned with the egg, so that it might well have been called carne seca con huevo, and just like a few days before, this delicate and delicious dried meat was again the star of the meal.

I was impressed with almost everything I had at El Rico Dicho, save the lack of liquor liscense (it's coming) and the so-called huarache. The masa was way too thick and the size far too small, the carnitas dry and flavorless and the toppings (jack cheese and green chile included) would have been more at home on a smothered burrito.

El Rico Dicho has a large menu like many taquerias do, and just like many taquerias, it is likely that not everything is stellar. It seems like the Northern Mexican dishes are their specialty, but in addition to all the other regional Mexican dishes they offered, they also had a full menu of Colorado specialties including a Mexican hamburger.

Whatever the case, it is undoubtedly worth your while to get over to El Rico Dicho Menuderia y Taqueria on 6th just West of Havana and check them out for yourself. If you want a sure thing, focus on anything that uses the house made carne seca or chorizo (and steer clear of the carnitas), but I am sure there are other great options on that menu as well. They haven't been open long, and I'll hope when I roll back up this spring or summer I'll be able to take advantage of their soon-to-come liquor license on their currently closed patio. If not, it will be yet another terrible heartbreak, and I don't know how many more I can take even though I know there are many more to come.

Denver al Pastor Take 9: The Tent Next to La Flor de Michoacan in Thornton

Lately I've been in a lull when it comes to restaurants and new food experiences. Don't get me wrong, I've had some good food here and there, but nothing mind-blowing, and mixed in have been some disappointments as well. And then there was the other night. Every once in a while a restaurant or food experience will remind me why I spend countless hours of my already busy life seeking out, eating and writing about food in the first place. And that is exactly what happened the other night when following the lead of a friend I made my way into the heart of Thornton to the Carniceria y Taquieria La Flor de Michoacan to track down a spit of pastor.

It's shouldn't be surprising that this rejuvenating experience involved tacos al pastor. It has been a long time since I've written about a good taco al pastor, and for those of you that don't know, please click here or here to see just how deep my passion for this marinated pork-on-a-spit goes. You ought to (and might already) know that while many places in Denver advertise pastor on the menu, very few have it roasting on spit like it was meant to be.

"Exquisite and Delicious"

But back to that night. It was not the Carneceria that I was after per se, though we wandered to the back of it where they also sell tacos only to elicit a confused stare from the guy when we asked for pastor.

"Aqui no hay," he stated, passing his hand over a relatively enticing (but a little old-looking) guisado buffet as my heart sank into my stomach thinking we had arrived too late and missed the pastor bounty.

"Afuera?" I asked. Outside? He only shrugged, mumbled something about being new and disappeared back into the bowels of the store. In fact this guy was so clueless about the existence of pastor just a few steps away from him that if I hadn't already seen the tent at the side of the building I might have panicked a little.

We wandered back out of the little store and into the tent that was actually more like a lean-to conglomerate of brick, concrete and wood with the canvas facade of a tent. They had not run out of pastor.

Quite the opposite, in fact: The taquero was sharpening his knife, eying the stacked meat and grinning like a man who is at that moment happy to be doing exactly what he is doing. Before him was a lovely spit of marinated pork with a proper chunk of pineapple over its top. In the grill next to him bubbled chorizo sausages and chopped steak. Behind him a smiling woman who took our orders and motioned for us to sit.

We made our way to some plastic chairs in the back, away from the music of the ubiquitous CD vendors. As primitive as this set-up was, there was of course a flat-screen TV, and during our entire meal it was blaring Al Extremo, a nightly highlight reel of car crashes, natural disasters and general tragedy. The tires screeches and gratuitous screams of horror from the TV were partially silenced by the heater in front of us, which was essentially a miniature jet engine. In fact despite the cold on the other side of the canvas we were instantly boiling hot in front of this super-powered propane heater.

The chaotic din, the smells of frying meat, the dark, temporary shelter that was all-too permanent created an oasis of Mexican street life--it was only the occasional gust of frigid air through the cracks in the wood that reminded us we were just fifteen minutes from downtown Denver.

Our tacos came shortly after on small Styrofoam trays with a bounty of grilled onions and a grilled jalepeño. The salsa bar was pretty standard but featured an excellent smoky red and a tremendous tomatillo-avocado salsa.

The taco al pastor was excellent. I will have to go back and try it again before I put it towards the top of my list, but based on this experience it was close. The meat was sliced a little thick but it was charred well and the marinade was very good. It might have been a little sweet, but then again, I went a little overboard with the pineapple, which was self-serve up at the salsa bar.

Below is round two, less drenched in salsa though not pineapples. Equally as incredible. Though I have to admit the environment of this taco stall enhances the flavor significantly.

The tortillas on all the tacos were soft, and oily in a good way. On them I tried all the rest of the tacos that they had to offer that night. Chorizo is always good, but here it was a little better than average being that it was grilled to order in the open air of the tent. I followed that with a moist and tender taco de carne asada which was equally as good.

I finished the night with a couple of cabeza tacos. The specific meat can vary, but it is slow-cooked with steam and comes from various places in the cow's head. When done right it is succulent to the point where it falls apart in your hand. The flavor of La Flor's cabeza is rich and this taco rivaled the pastor.

La Flor de Michoacan reminds us how little is needed to create a meaningful, unforgettable food experience. No smoke and mirrors, hell, not even four solid walls. I needed a night like this to feel invigorated about food again. I've said a couple times before that certain places in Denver have felt like being back in Mexico, but they don't compare to crossing the threshold of this tent. Here I really felt like I entered a different world, and it was such a surreal experience that after getting back into my car and driving home, it almost didn't seem like it could have happened. I don't throw the term around loosely, but this is about as close as you can get to an "authentic" Mexican taco experience in this town-- both "real and honest" and "true to the original".

There are very few places like this in our fair city and I feel somehow reassured and good again just knowing that it is there. Surely this place won't be for everyone (you want to know your way around a taco stand), and for that matter I hope everyone that reads this doesn't rush out to go there (OK, I won't flatter myself, that never happens). In fact part of me struggled to even write about this place-- preferring to keep it to myself and my close friends-- and even after I publish it I think I will still have second thoughts. But I trust that those that go there will do so because they will know what to expect, crave and respect that; and will savor every single moment.

Visit Carniceria y Taquieria La Flor de Michoacan en Thorton at 2001 North Coronado Parkway on Friday, Saturday or Sunday starting at 4pm and go directly to the tent. If you also happen to need some freshly butchered meat, or are low on some groceries stop in the store itself and stock up.