There’s No Place Like Home

San Antonio Taco Company, Vanderbilt Location, 416 21st Ave. S.

Lunch and dinner.

My mother is Latin-American, which makes me half-Latin-American.  Specifically, she is Honduran, but the specificity doesn’t much matter when it comes to certain food staples.  Rice.  Beans.  Tamales.  And, of course, tacos.

I grew up with some strong mixed messages about tacos, as about other things, and I attribute this in part of growing up in a mixed house.  On the one hand, my mother said she despised American attempts at Latin-American food.  On the other hand, we probably had enough Taco Bell taco dinners to feed a small country.

Some of the best tacos I had growing up were from taco stands in neighborhoods that my friends’ parents told their kids to be careful to avoid.  All the better for us, my mom used to say, as we would slip away into taco dives where Spanish was the only language heard or seen.  I would choose a table while my mom would order bags full of tacos, chatting with the proprietors about their origins and why they had all ended up here.  I felt, as I often do, out of place in these restaurants, knowing I wasn’t fully one of them and knowing I wasn’t fully one of the others either.

Eating those tacos seemed to bridge the gaps, at least for that hour we spent surrounded by people who looked more like my mom than my friends’ mothers did.  The tacos were the glue that was tying us to the same location, and they were always fresh, flavorful, and filling in an indescribable way.

The San Antonio Taco Company, or “Satco” to the locals, is not reminiscent of one of these authentic taco joints.  In fact, judging by its appearance alone, it is a place for college students and 20-somethings to gather on the large wooden deck, order a round of beer in an ice bucket, and drink copiously.  And, let me be clear, I see no harm in this.

What is surprising, however, is the tacos themselves.  These little foil-wrapped morsels of goodness bring me back time and again to those awkward-yet-soul-enriching hours spent in the taquerias of my youth.  Satco excels at the skill that Latin-Americans have mastered: keep it simple and let the ingredients speak for themselves.  And, crucially, keep it cheap.

Peter and I are now regular patrons of Satco, visiting the Vanderbilt location at least once a week.  After some experimentation with different menu options, our standard order is now as follows:  four beef tacos with cheese and guacamole and an order of chips and queso, all for around $15, a brilliant lunch for a brilliant price.

The menu offers various meat tacos (pork, chicken, and beef) as well as vegetarian options (bean & cheese and guacamole), enchiladas, salads, and sides.  The queso is addictive, thick and creamy, the way a good queso ought to be.  If only the guacamole was a little fresher and tastier, then this place might be ranked near the top of all tacos I’ve ever had.

There are other things to be wary of as well.  The service at the counter isn’t unfriendly exactly, but it sure isn’t anything to write home about.  On more than one occasion, Peter and I have had something omitted from one of our tacos (either the cheese or the guac was skipped in the attempt to get the food out fast).  Additionally, this place isn’t going to be winning any awards for cleanliness, particularly on the outdoor tables or near the salsa bar.  Remember: college students have just broken free from their parents.  Cleanliness isn’t up there on the list of priorities.  And Satco is so invested in getting the orders out fast that a good table-wipe-down is hard to come by.  Just think of it as lending a little ambiance.

Meanwhile, I’ll click my heels and dream of home…