I divide my life into two eras: pre-California and post. If you have ever spent a significant time in the Golden State, you might be able to relate. In my pre-California life, my understanding of Mexican food was limited to Taco Bell and El Paso Salsa - this was the context under which I approached a hole-in-the-wall burrito haven for the first time as wide-eyed, impressionable and naive freshman.
That first burrito at Patty's, it changed me. Hot sauce wasn't something to be afraid of any more, Carne Asada, cheese and refried beans rocketed to the top of my cravings list and hungover Friday mornings were never the same again.
My post-California life has been punctuated by the discerning lack of decent Mexican food. I've been to Homestead, I've been to Taco Rico, I've hit all of those heavily recommended hot spots, and still, I remain on a relentless search for a perfect burrito.
It's my Everest.
Miami River Mexican is getting me one step closer to the summit.
Let's be clear, I did not order the burrito, so the summit might still be in local grasp. After a recommendation from a stranger, failed yelp search and a single Google location listing and a nervous car ride up 8th avenue where (I swear this is a true story) I donned my yach-cap navigator's hat I directed my dining companions to this neon-orange mexican haven nestled between two auto-repair shops. Yes, we got hassled to buy used cars. Yes, one of them had bullet holes in it. Yes, they had been repaired with caulk. Yes, these three girls from Brickell were sketched out - but hey, you have to make sacrifices for good food, right?
Walking inside you find there's a bar, a sit-down portion AND some pool tables in the back, a couple TV's hanging from the roof playing soccer and a bunch of wall-mounted clay vases (well, I think they were vases, the jury's still out on the decor. Will update after a second visit).
Our waitress, picking up on our fish-out-of-water situation, was very patient and accommodating and answered all of our questions with a smile. Well, the ones that were asked in Spanish, at least.
We ordered some fresh home made guacamole to complement the chips and salsa on the table, which was a solid choice, and one I will continue to make in the future. There are varying degrees of salsa, but they start at "hot" and escalate to "hellfire" pretty quickly, so heed your waitresses warnings and order a milky horchata to balance out the burn. The mildest salsa was of a mango-passion fruit variety and we loved it. The green salsa was a little hotter so we approached it with care, but the hellfire orange salsa was a chipotle based sauce which meant I had to weather the heat and pour it over everything. It was delicious! BUT my throat, mouth and nasal passages were on fire.
The horchata was good, but not the best I've ever had. Horchata in Miami is generally grainier and thinner than what I would drink in California. The search for the perfect rice drink is still on.
We each ordered three tacos, at the wallet-shattering price of $1.75 a piece. After all, we did splurge, opting for the "Tacos Especial" which come topped with avocado, radishes, grilled onion and radishes (yes, radishes).
On a regular day, these tacos would set you back $2.25 (or $2.00 if you're not feeling especial), but on Wednesdays all tacos are $1.00.
The Mexican 100 Montaditos, if you will.
We ordered al pastor, carne asada, grilled chicken, and steak tacos- but have no idea who ate what because we're fairly certain our orders were interchanged at some point, but it's fine because everything I put in my mouth was delicious. (By the way, meat options range from straight pork, steak, chicken, al pastor or barbacoa to chorizo, tongue or chicharon).
The tacos are not only delicious and PACKED with flavor, but are also PACKED, period. Keeping all of that meat inside the small home-made flour tortilla proved impossible and required some wipies for post-meal clean up. Not to mention that I couldn't even fit the third taco in my belly I was already so full after two.
Glad to have made the trek into uncharted territory, I put my yacht-cap back on and steered our group back to the safe confines of our Brickell high-rises.
But we will be back. And we will eat burritos. read more