I walked into this, well, dump. It looks like a crack-bodega. Very little on the shelves, and a middle-aged woman cooking something that smelled uncommonly good. Then I noticed the sign, in Spanish talking about the Huaraches. So I took one to go, con cecina, just because I was curious.
Damn if that wasn't one tasty huarache! Four dollars... the huarache itself seems to be premade at someone's house or something, it tasted that homey. It's heated up with, smeared with black bean paste, added to some fresh well-browned cecina (salted beef), a very fresh tasting salsa and some lovely lettuce and fresh cilantro.
What a treat of a meal, for such hideous surroundings. I was about to order some crack on the side, but I chose not to.
The corner of 49th and Skillman. Bring the huarache across the street to the Brogue, a very pleasant pub with some very nice people.
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