Day 20: Taquería La Única (Central Ave location)

The task of assessing Taqueria La Única is much akin to that of critiquing an older brother's basketball skills. It misses the point: of course he's not Kobe, but he still taught you everything you know. That is to say, La Única isn't perfect, but Goles y Frijoles wouldn't exist without it. It was largely the discovery that I could get such good Mexican food within a mile of home at an establishment that seemed to abjure restaurant essentials like atmosphere and advertising so vehemently--check out the faceless exterior above--that prompted me to explore the existence of such places throughout the city.

So, it was only for a sure thing that John, Jordan, and I risked our lives yesterday in the throes of torrential afternoon thunderstorms, flash flooding, and a seemingly un-defoggable front windshield. When we arrived at our sanctuary, starving, soaked by the walk through the tiny parking lot, all three of us bypassed the usual favorites (chorizo tacos and the chicken quesadilla) for the enormous California Burrito, which, for the burrito-challenged out there, merely means you'll be getting your rice and beans inside the tortilla and not on your plate. Though it was served covered in queso sauce--I am much more a fan of cheese on the inside--the burrito's creator was thankfully an opponent of big government because as soon as our plates hit the table, we knew the California Burrito was too big to fail. Typical of La Única dishes, the vegetables in the burrito are not the standard shredded iceberg lettuce and chopped, unripe tomatoes. Rather they are the sauteed onions and peppers usually saved for that unadventurous lot who order fajitas. Curiously egalitarian, yet undeniably delicious.

The Score: You have no excuse not to visit Taquería La Única, especially since Central Ave is only one of a handful of locations in the greater-Charlotte area. (I guess sometimes word of mouth is loud enough, even when filled with burrito.)

Day 19: Taquería Guadalajara

Taquería Guadalajara is another of the Tryon/Sugar Creek cluster of rice and beans slingers, and I decided upon it as my pre-Spain v. Portugal fill up station, but I guess no one else in the universe was feeling my sentiment, because I walked into the former fast food establishment—obvious due to the drive-thru setup of its parking lot—at 1:30 today to find only employees. Despite its name, Guadalajara seems to have something of a pan-Central American menu, offering a lot of the usual suspects, along with a significant number of seafood dishes, such as campechana (a traditional Mexican seafood soup) pictured with claws hanging (desperately?) out of the bowl.

As expected, chips were served, this time with the trio of hot red sauce, hot green, and a jalapeñoed pico de gallo accompanying. Though the initial plan was to grab a couple tacos and bounce, the picture menu thousand-worded me and I ended up ordering a tostada de ceviche, beef tongue taco, and chicken gordita.

Upon biting the first, a couplet sprang forth:

“Of love, I believed, Auden could teach me / About-face: He ne’er wrote of ceviche.”

Perhaps it was merely the today’s deathly humid weather or that it came after so many too hot and too heavy meals or that it arrived on my table after only the exact amount of time it takes to scoop strained ceviche onto to a hard, corn tortilla and slice an avocado on top, but that bite and the ones to follow were without competition the most refreshing in Goles y Frijoles’ short history. For the uninitiated, ceviche is seafood “cooked” by the citric acid in which it marinates. To my knowledge, it is usually eaten as a soup that could contain a variety of garnishes. Like its Italian cold soup cousin, gazpacho, ceviche is fittingly a hot weather staple in much of Latin America. After manhandling my tostada, I gave the cook a big thumbs up, which he, with a knowing glance, reciprocated.

Not to be overshadowed by the tostada, the taco and gordita brought their own. Tongue tacos (“de lengua”) are commonplace on the taquería circuit, and this one was served with just meat, tender and ready to be piled with verde sauce and pico de gallo. Fortunately, the meat’s tenderness allowed circumvention of a tongue taco’s only drawback: being able to feel with your own taste buds the taste buds of the cow you are eating, or, what I like to call “La besa de vaca.” A fine line between pleasure and pain, indeed. Finally, the gordita is not to be confused with the item at Taco Bell with which it shares a moniker, but, rather, a fried tortilla filled with…filling, in this instance, chicken. I found the best way to consume was with a fork, being sure to get a dollop of sour cream and slice of jalapeño on each forkful.

Before tip, my bill was $6.83. Just sayin’.

The Score: A winner! Mix and match for a great value, but don’t leave without trying the tostada de ceviche.

Day 18: 1900 (Elizabeth Ave location)

Today's review is brought to you by the good folks at Restaurant.com, who assisted this Goles y Frijoles visit to 1900 Mexican Grille & Tequila Bar by providing a $25 coupon. ¡Muchas gracias! Their generosity allowed GyF veterans, Christy and Ben, to come too.

The Elizabeth Ave 1900 is a stunningly appointed space on the corner of one of the street's newer edifices. The ceilings are high with ornately decorated tiles and hung with enormous light fixtures. At 1:30 pm, we were one of two parties dining. After nibbling on chips and a very fresh pico de gallo with corn, we brought on a spinach queso dip. Delicious.

In typical form, I could not get a handle on the large menu, asked our Costa Rican waitress for a recommendation, and was basically rebuffed. I ended up getting a beef chile relleno, if only because I hadn't yet eaten one during the previous few weeks. Like most chile rellenos in my past, this one didn't really do much for me. The rice and beans were not my favorite either. My compañeros fared a but better. Christy's Veggie (that's right, it's not Tuesday) Fajitas received a score of "awesome," with particular praise being given to the mushrooms. Ben's Enchiladas Verdes were likewise "a good move" on his part. Ben also provided the insight that his sour cream was "awesome," but then rescinded that statement in favor of the observation that "sour cream in general is awesome." What a critic.

We ended our little lunchtime fiesta with a sopapilla, a large version of the flat, fried pastry covered in cinnamon and cream that often comes gratis at a Mexican restaurant. Though difficult to manage with a fork, ours was the best sopapilla these lips have ever tasted, in no small way due to the scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. After struggling with his first few bites, Ben continued his string of epigrams by voicing the discovery that there is an inverse correlation between one's desire to eat sopapilla and ability to get it in one's mouth. Someone should graph that.

The Score: Great ambiance and well-priced, but hit and miss.

Day 17: La Paz

Goles y Frijoles would like to take this opportunity to big up Matt Nossel and his girlfriend Brenda, who traveled all the way from Taiwan to be a part of this great experiment. (Rory, thanks for riding down from Davidson, I guess.) Only because we had such distinguished guests in tow did I dine somewhat outside my principles at that paragon of hoity toity Latin Amercan food in the QC, South Blvd’s La Paz. Hey, at least we sat at the bar and watched soccer.

In spite of everything that irks me about a place like La Paz (the valet parking, the giant, faux-something wooden doors, the foyer walls covered in “Best of Charlotte” plaques, the overwhelming feeling that the owners could decide on a whim to change the menu to French or Greek or whatever seems trendiest and never miss a beat), at least when you ask for a recommendation, you get one. The bartender was quick to rattle off his favorites: 1) Baja Fish Tacos; 2) Chicken and Spinach “Suizas”. I went with the latter and have no complaints. Good green sauce enchiladas, rice, and black beans—a welcome break from the refried. The menu also features convenient "New" and "Veg" labels on many of the meals and boasts the hilariously named "Basket o' Tacos." Oh, La Paz, you code-switchers, you!

A heads up: Your waiter will ask you if you’d like queso or guacamole in addition to your salsa, but, unlike the red stuff, those two aren’t on the house. My companions found out the hard way: seven dollars for a cup of melted cheese.

The Score: Yeah, La Paz, you’re good…but oh don’t you know it.

Day 16: Las Delicias

Late last night at Elizabeth Billiards, Jimmy, a fellow twenty five year-old male, remarked that he loved being twenty five because you can do anything you want. He's exactly right. And it is indeed awesome. His statement is, of course, not true on a literal level--I have no delusions about my ability to defy gravity, kill someone and avoid culpability, or play professional basketball. Rather, what he meant was that I could conceivably do something get up late in the morning and decide that I want to eat a whole bunch of pastries instead of normal lunch food, while sitting on my couch and watching soccer on TV. Who is going to tell me I can't? Coincidentally, that's exactly what I did today.

Las Delicias is a cake shop and pastelería on Central Ave, located in the strip mall just before Landmark Diner. If you're there for pastries, grab a tray and a pair of plastic tongs from underneath the cases on your right and go to work. Then bring your tray up to the counter where your bill will be tallied and your sundries bagged. (It took me about ten minutes to figure this out.) With a little help from the tiny woman at the counter, I selected a trenza, a pineapple empanada, a churro, and a slice of cheesecake. Then, to make it a more balanced meal, I added a two more empanadas, one ham and cheese, the other chicken. All this cost only about eight bucks, and the woman even let me use a credit card in spite of the $10 minimum.

The winners of this group were the trenza and pineapple empanada. The former is a dark pastry with raisins, probably made in a pan and cut into large blocks. It's the sort of thing Entenmann's does, except with about three times less sugar. The latter is a sweet empanada with fruit filling. If you don't know what an empanada is, live a little or see Day 9. The churro (a long, thin piece of fried dough covered in sugar) was tasty enough and filled with something akin to dulce de leche, but churros were never my thing anyway. Thumbs down on the cheesecake: dry, light, and bready.

The "real food" empanadas were at least an improvement over Pollos Mario, but I have yet to taste one that ranks with those of Buenos Aires.

The Score: Like any sweets, these are good in moderation. (Yes, even if you're 25.)

Day 15: El Pulgarcito de América

Day 14: Phat Burrito

South End's Phat Burrito is an institution in the Queen City--and for good reason. As its name indicates, the corner eatery has been making deliciously plump burritos since the days when the word "phat" was acceptable slang. On the inside, PB is set up to do one thing well: make burritos, tacos, quesadillas fast and fresh to order for the uptown Charlotte lunch crowd. A handful of small tables make way for the line of customers that moves from the front to back door. The walls are adorned with eclectic designs and a number of "Best Burrito" plaques bestowed by local publications.

So, finding myself hungry and unadventurous after a few IPAs in the courtyard of Common Market 2 yesterday evening, I moseyed across the the street for relief. Though, at a mere $6.50, the burritos are certainly the reason hit this place up, I opted for a more-managable trio of soft tacos: fish, BBQ chicken, and steak. Obviously neither Phat Burrito nor I were hung up on authenticity, and thank God for that. The mango on the fish taco is certainly not something I've come across at a taqueria on Central Ave or farther down South Blvd, but at the moment it made the taco the most gratifying thing I've eaten in weeks. As for the BBQ chicken...was sacrilege always this delicious? Another plus: you can get a side of chips and salsa to go for a dollar even!

The Score: Phat Burrito, you do what you do, and you do it well.