The less fine dining I eat, the less fine dining I want. LA is a city of street food, though most of it is brick-and-mortar. Still, Tacos 1986 is best consumed standing, best eaten fresh from the fire at one of their tiled bar counters. If you need a celebrity endorsement, they have a framed photo of Biden on the wall.
A mere $5 will get you the secret-menu Perron, where a hand-rolled tortilla is covered with a crackling layer of queso to cradle the carne asada. Impossibly soft pinto beans cling to a dab of guac, and each item is exquisitely made.
Delicious but I prefer my simpler street tacos by the bunch. Theirs are small enough to try one of every kind.
The Chicken is meh. Well-seasoned, yes, and also very savory and tender, but what else? This is LA; you can’t just slap some breasts on a grill.
Carne Asada is king; this meat chews as a tender steak should, beefy bits of juicy bliss.
Wash it all down with a super-sweet Hibiscus Agua Fresca and take a bite of the placid Pastor. The spice mix is mild but savory and you can see that the sliced-off-the-spit pieces are glistening with dripping juice.
Mushroom tacos are my new curiosity, and these did not disappoint. The texture is meaty, though the soup tends to spill.
The carne asada is what you order here. Take every opportunity to wrap it up with the thin and chewy and not-so-corny handmade tortillas, and for your tacos, order no less than five.
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