A new taco compendium regards Tijuana and San Diego less as neighboring taco towns, than as part of a sprawling taco landscape. Taco Megaregion: The Essential Guide to San Diego & Tijuana's Best Tacos is the work of W. Scott Koenig, the content creator and food tour guide behind the handle, A Gringo in Mexico. His book features 120 trusted taco spots, grouped geographically yet spanning both sides of the border. The guide favors smaller, usually family run businesses, while also highlighting taco motifs in what he calls the, "intertwined culinary traditions of both cities."
We don't have to look far to see what he means. Just this week I took a seat at the latest Tijuana taco shop to open a location here in San Diego. Taqueria Tijuanazo launched last month on University Avenue in Hillcrest, with a simple counter and seating, and a long menu repeating the same 10 proteins in ten configurations, including the street tacos, burritos, tortas, tostadas, and quesadillas.
Originally known as Taconazo, the rebranded Tijuanazo is a family business that makes abundantly clear how little that federal border really impacts taco lore. According to reporting by Eater Los Angeles, Tijuanazo cofounder Antonio Esquivel was born in Mexico, grew up in Los Angeles, learned to cook in Beverly Hills, before starting Taconazo with his wife in Playas de Tijuana. Now their grown kids are opening shops in the U.S., in Los Angeles, as well as Hillcrest.
Tijuanazo may best be known for its take on adobada tacos, in which slices of rotisserie pork are smothered with cilantro crema, rather than the more common guacamole. With tacos starting at $3.75, that's a reliable starting point among the shop's 100 or so variations, for taco fans looking to recreate the Tijuana experience. Recipes have no trouble crossing the border, right?
Birria lovers will find what they crave on the $5 quesataco menu, where cheese is melted onto the tortilla. Whether you choose corn or flour tortilla, you'll definitely want to order a side of consome ($3) for dipping.
However, the griddled cheese action doesn't end there, and that's where a few of the more interesting trends show up. The $6.25 mulitas eat like tortilla grilled cheeses, while the $4.25 vampiros adds melted cheese to a crispy tortilla. I asked for mine with carne asada—which comes with that heavy smear of guac.
New to me was the strangest sort of taco creation, called a fantasma (~$6.25), or "ghost." I wasn't even sure I was hearing right when I asked about it: this dish has a base of grilled cheese, then the meat, then a crispy tortilla on top, and a side of pinto beans. With the cheese splaying out like trailing sheets, I suppose it looks like the ghost of a taco.
Calling it a Fantasma may be unique to Tijuanazo, but griddled cheese on tacos or as tortillas has grown more common every year. Koenig notes that Tijuana establishment Tacos Salseados calis credit for the move, and they've been doing it at least 15 years.
Of course, a Tijuana location of Tijuanazo appears in Taco Megaregion—its entry even predicts the San Diego expansion. And like each taco restaurant, truck, or stand in the book, its description includes a recommended taco to try. While he acknowledges the adobada as iconic, Koenig suggests the tripas taco first, which he describes as, "crispy on the outside and soft in the middle... extra flavorful as they absorb the taste of the other meats with which they’re fried."
I've long veered away from tripe tacos, but where you choose to try new things matters, and that sounds pretty convincing, like I might need to get over my tripas anxiety and take part in the spoils of living in the megaregion. And now, I know exactly where to go when I'm ready to do so.
A new taco compendium regards Tijuana and San Diego less as neighboring taco towns, than as part of a sprawling taco landscape. Taco Megaregion: The Essential Guide to San Diego & Tijuana's Best Tacos is the work of W. Scott Koenig, the content creator and food tour guide behind the handle, A Gringo in Mexico. His book features 120 trusted taco spots, grouped geographically yet spanning both sides of the border. The guide favors smaller, usually family run businesses, while also highlighting taco motifs in what he calls the, "intertwined culinary traditions of both cities."
We don't have to look far to see what he means. Just this week I took a seat at the latest Tijuana taco shop to open a location here in San Diego. Taqueria Tijuanazo launched last month on University Avenue in Hillcrest, with a simple counter and seating, and a long menu repeating the same 10 proteins in ten configurations, including the street tacos, burritos, tortas, tostadas, and quesadillas.
Originally known as Taconazo, the rebranded Tijuanazo is a family business that makes abundantly clear how little that federal border really impacts taco lore. According to reporting by Eater Los Angeles, Tijuanazo cofounder Antonio Esquivel was born in Mexico, grew up in Los Angeles, learned to cook in Beverly Hills, before starting Taconazo with his wife in Playas de Tijuana. Now their grown kids are opening shops in the U.S., in Los Angeles, as well as Hillcrest.
Tijuanazo may best be known for its take on adobada tacos, in which slices of rotisserie pork are smothered with cilantro crema, rather than the more common guacamole. With tacos starting at $3.75, that's a reliable starting point among the shop's 100 or so variations, for taco fans looking to recreate the Tijuana experience. Recipes have no trouble crossing the border, right?
Birria lovers will find what they crave on the $5 quesataco menu, where cheese is melted onto the tortilla. Whether you choose corn or flour tortilla, you'll definitely want to order a side of consome ($3) for dipping.
However, the griddled cheese action doesn't end there, and that's where a few of the more interesting trends show up. The $6.25 mulitas eat like tortilla grilled cheeses, while the $4.25 vampiros adds melted cheese to a crispy tortilla. I asked for mine with carne asada—which comes with that heavy smear of guac.
New to me was the strangest sort of taco creation, called a fantasma (~$6.25), or "ghost." I wasn't even sure I was hearing right when I asked about it: this dish has a base of grilled cheese, then the meat, then a crispy tortilla on top, and a side of pinto beans. With the cheese splaying out like trailing sheets, I suppose it looks like the ghost of a taco.
Calling it a Fantasma may be unique to Tijuanazo, but griddled cheese on tacos or as tortillas has grown more common every year. Koenig notes that Tijuana establishment Tacos Salseados calis credit for the move, and they've been doing it at least 15 years.
Of course, a Tijuana location of Tijuanazo appears in Taco Megaregion—its entry even predicts the San Diego expansion. And like each taco restaurant, truck, or stand in the book, its description includes a recommended taco to try. While he acknowledges the adobada as iconic, Koenig suggests the tripas taco first, which he describes as, "crispy on the outside and soft in the middle... extra flavorful as they absorb the taste of the other meats with which they’re fried."
I've long veered away from tripe tacos, but where you choose to try new things matters, and that sounds pretty convincing, like I might need to get over my tripas anxiety and take part in the spoils of living in the megaregion. And now, I know exactly where to go when I'm ready to do so.