The Best Taco in Jalisco

When I go to Puerto Vallarta on the Mexican state of Jalisco’s Pacific shore, I am driven by a memory.

Many years ago, visiting the area with my pal Gary, I had what may have been the best taco of my life.

Al pastor at Pepe's Tacos, Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico

Al pastor at Pepe’s Tacos, Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico

“I’m not eating there,” Gary said as I made a bee-line for the grimy little sidewalk stand, feeding more flies than patrons, bottles of crema baking in the sun. I smelled fish tacos.

“Dos, por favor,” I told the leathery woman dropping fillets into oil. More

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Tacotopia, Episode #1: Chile Verde

*Tacotopia: a blissful place or state, where peace and love reign, tequila flows like rivers and tacos are plentiful, varied and delicious.

“You made a taco in Tahoe,” my pal Bob rolled poetically off his tongue, “Insane — what was that!?”

“I don’t remember,” I replied.

Upon further prodding and reflection, I did recall frying cheese and shrimp, recreating one of my most popular tacos thus far.

Bob was expressing his enthusiasm for my Year of the Taco idea — he was all behind it. (What’s not to be behind? Especially if you anticipate being one of the test subjects in this culinary experiment.)

Alex Tehrani digs in

Alex Tehrani digs in

“In Mexico,” I said to my pal Don, with whom I would be traveling to Jalisco in a couple months, “It’s going to be all about the taco. We are going to eat as many tacos as we can get ahold of. And tequila.” More

Skinny Girls Roadshow LIVE from Mexico — Turf & Surf

El pescado y yo

El pescado y yo

“What would you like for dinner?” the house chef, Marilu, asked us in Spanish. And we stood puzzling at her, since our Spanish is not that good.

Eventually we figured it out, and I suggested carne asada — grilled steak. It had clearly been sometime since any houseguests had requested this, since the grill was in an advanced state of rust decomposition, and much of the staff’s time that afternoon was spent scrubbing, soaking and scouring it. More

Skinny Girls Roadshow LIVE from Mexico — To Eat or Be Eaten

Down here, south of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, where there are iguanas on the rooftops and butterflies in the house, where flowers and rubber trees grow from rock walls and rain gutters and cobblestone streets, where that chirping call you hear from the trees at night is not birds but geckos, where moths are the size of your hand and walls transitory, time takes on a drowsy quality and you get into the rhythm of the tropics and the realities that entails. Some of those realities, like the lush beauty and balmy waters, are lovely. Some, like the mosquitos, are not.

Baja from 30,000 feet

Baja from 30,000 feet

The last time I contemplated myself as meal on this blog was a post I did from Lake Tahoe reflecting on the Donner party. But after our first night of our now annual fall trip to Casa Tres Coronitas in which I received some 15 to 20 bites inside the mosquito netting that surrounded our bed (while my daughter, outside the netting, got that many on her face alone), I find myself considering it again. More

Just Another Tequila Sunset

Long a beer and wine (and sometimes saké) man, I’ve recently taken to tequila.

I’ve always drank tequila, in the form of a margarita or the occasional shot. But it wasn’t until I was well beyond my freewheeling 20s that I discovered good tequila — sipping tequila. More

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