Following Low End Theory, I hit up La Oaxaquena, the taco truck that parks on Lincoln below rose starting at 6 PM.
First of all: clayuda, the big flat crunchy thing topped with gunk. It's good here, but I'll take my godhead at El Sazon Oaxaquena. The El Sazon one has the deeper, cracklingier asiento (pork cracklin's) flavor, and crunchier clayuda. Not to say this isn't a fine clayuda - better than Juquila's or Guelaguetza's.
Second of all: some of the meats are alrightish. Al pastor is on the poor side. But the tongue! (Lengua). Goddamn, the tongue! Looks like it was grilled crusty, then slow stewed till melting and soft. It's one of the lushest, luscious-est meats I've had. My friend Daniel R., who knows his tongue, took one bite and said, "Damn!" (He didn't say damn, actually, but he said something that, given his non-vulgar nature, should best be represented as damn.) "Damn!" he said, "This is the best tongue I've ever had besides my grandmother's."
Ambiguities aside, it is fine tongue.
Second time I was there, I saw all non-gringos were drinking something out of styrofoam cups. I poke my head into the window and see that the guy is ladling something steaming and white into styrofoam cups.
"What's that?" I say.
"Atole," says he. "You want?"
"Hell yeah, gimme two," say I.
It turns out to be really great atole. Less ferment-y tasting than the Salvadorean atoles, nice balance of sweet and other flavors.
It's good enough that I have veggie friends who will drive down here with me just for the atole.
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