Denver al Pastor Take 17: El Trompito South

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. 

The Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet: A Poem-like Tribute

I've written about the fabulous tacos at the Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet before, but I finally returned for their buffet spread a couple weeks ago. The buffet at Guadalajara is impressive to say the least, both in quantity and (for the most part) quality. It also includes tacos to order. It was such a great experience, in fact, that I was moved to verse. As a preface to my buffet-inspired lines, over the past month I have been reading Shel Silverstien's "Where the Sidewalk Ends" alternating with "A Light in the Attic"-- every single night (to my kids). Oh, and this incredible book about Mexican food that I can't recommend enough.

The result of my Mexican buffet binge and my immersion in rhyming children's literature-- for better or worse-- is this. If you regularly read actual poetry, or even just have a general appreciation of the art, you may be genuinely offended if you choose to continuing reading. Or enjoy, like I have, with the understanding that once you reach the bottom, there is nowhere to go but up.

The Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet is Just Great

The Guadalajara Authentic Mexican Buffet is just great

For a family of four, six, seven, or eight.

Or 11 or 12, bring your grandma and cousin,

Cause this is a spread that all ages be lovin'.

Stay for a while and come with a clean palette,

Avoid fillers like rice, beans, or (worst) iceberg salad.

Stay cool and go slow - don't do anything drastic,

And best to wear pants with a little elastic.

There are chicken legs in a dark mole sauce;

calabaza and corn stewing in a rich broth.

Grilled steak and shrimp with sweet peppers and spice

and more typical plates that are sure to entice.

There's stewed chicharron in a hot red salsa,

that's a little bit salty but still freakin' awesome.

Pozole, meundo, and even green chile,

Indeed the quantity borders on silly.

When my first plate was full I was doing my best

To balance it all and not make a mess,

But I couldn't resist one more chile relleno

fearing that later I would be way too lleno.

But I didn't stop there, I went back for seconds,

Those enchiladas I missed were starting to beckon.

As were the grilled veggies and the tilapia,

You just keep eating and ain't no one stoppin' ya'.

If you are still hungry but want something novel

There's colita de pavo you could eat by the shovel.

In a brown chile sauce that is slightly murky,

that's right you can chew on the tail of a turkey.

There are some items you'd do best to not stomach

like the hot dogs or 2-day old chicken nuggets.

The droopy french fries and the crusty "espagueti"

were other items for which no stomach is ready.

The ambiance is not unlike a school cafeteria,

and though there's no beer, there is birria,

and tacos to order grilled up fresh

with a red salsa that will heat up your breath.

And while it's true that there is no booze,

there is enough food so that you'll snooze

quite well that night and into the morn'

(You might even feel hungover, bloated and worn.)

But don't let that next day stop you now,

Just think of the joy you'll bring your stomach and how

You'll never forget all the great things you devoured,

Cause you'll be burping them up for several hours.

After my third plate I felt a little fatigued,

out of breath and weak in the knees.

But eating this buffet is not for the meek

So come hungry and you'll stay full for a week.

Buffets get a bad rap in the food world these days

But this Mexican diner's no Old Country Buffet.

It's good- no it's great- but I'm repeating myself

Just get there and try it all out for yourself.