Mouthwatering Mamacita – San Francisco

A perfect taco is impossible. You throw a bunch of things into a tiny shell and hope you can squeeze everything in without busting the taco. Some ingredients layer with all the precision of a French croissant, while others pile and accumulate wherever they choose. How much of each ingredient goes on the taco? Some people sprinkle and others palm a fist-full. And somehow Mamacita’s tacos work.  The ingredients aren’t exact, but each one compensates for the others, filling in wherever one is lacking. And together they roll flawlessly across your tongue, smooth as a well-oiled machine.

The only thing I can compare to a machine so well-oiled is a strong internal medicine team. I want to say that’s because internal medicine is all about the team work, but I think it’s really because internal medicine is taking over my life. And I’m a huge nerd. The thing is, my well-oiled machine theory varies for every team. In a good team, everyone brings their own special something to the table, but in the best team, those special somethings mesh and somehow they bring out the best in everyone.

The perfectly seasoned cubes of steak of the Carne Asada Tacos were strong enough to stand alone. But no team of strong interns is complete without a resident’s lead. With a strong steak as a base, the right amount of guidance from the toppings just builds upon and carries the meaty momentum. Just a few chunks of beefy, juice-dripping steak would get old pretty fast without a queso to soften the stress and a chill chimichurri to lighten the mood.

It’s hard to say which is better, the Carne Asada or the Carnitas Tacos. Where the pork is heavy, the salsa is light. The pico picks up the slack, and the arugula steps in when the pico falls short. The chicharron adds a crunch to keep the pork from going soft, and the soft shell wraps up the rounds and protects the team with all the accommodation of an autonomy-driven attending.

The tacos worked in harmony, but the Enchiladas Rojas Sencillas are what happens when a team just doesn’t gel. Even when the team looks good from the outside, the bursting bunches of dry, flavorless chicken hide within if you dig just a little bit deeper. The chicken hides behind the pretty mole amarillo, which isn’t quite talented enough to carry the chicken through. But far be it from me to let one mediocrity mar my marvelous night. I won’t order the enchiladas again, but I will wash my taco down with a chip full of Guacamole al Don any day.