Chorizo Salvation at San Vicente

The D.C. area has a unique problem for those interested in uncovering quality Mexican grub. While those living in other cities typically have to contend with queso-laden Tex-Mex masquerading as "authentic Mexican," Washingtonians must suffer through a glut of Salvadoran restaurants' half-hearted renditions of Mexican food. Still, there are a few Salvadoran joints that have made great strides in helping D.C. overcome its authentic taco void. Taqueria El Charrito Caminante is probably the most famous example, as the entire D.C. board on Chowhound was overcome with praise for its goat tacos back in 2003.

Recently, Steve Siegel, who is easily the most prolific and adventurous poster on the D.C. Chowhound board, wrote a post extolling the virtues of San Vicente, a fixed-site taco shack on Columbia Pike in Arlington. Siegel proclaimed San Vicente's chorizo tacos the second best in the area after the aforementioned goat tacos from El Charrito Caminante.

With no less an eminence than Steve Siegel heralding its greatness, we knew that we must make haste to San Vicente. We had actually taken notice of San Vicente during a previous excursion down the Pike, as its distinctive burger shack architecture hearkened back to the pre-pupuseria era of Arlington. This burnt-out neon sign offers further evidence of its original incarnation.

AC wrote a fairly detailed article for DCist a couple of weeks ago describing our experience: Chorizo Salvation at San Vicente.  That post was picked up by Gawker Media's travel site, Gridskipper, whose post, in turn, was linked on Wonkette. This viral blog nonesense can be absolutely dizzying. If you happen to read either of those two blurbs, rest assured that the chorizo taco is hardly a secret menu item. In fact, the chorizo taco platter is there in plain sight on the menu. It's simply not listed as an a la carte option, but San Vicente is apparently willing to accommodate such a request.

Unlike other taco joints that have the various meats festering in vats, San Vicente makes everything to order.

The chorizo taco was everything we hoped it would be. Chorizo tacos are usually dripping with that distinctive orange grease with bits of ground sausage typically clinging to one another by a web of stringy fat. Instead, this chorizo was finely chopped and had just the right amount of grease to let you know you're still dealing with chorizo- but not so much grease that you know you'll be lamenting your decision later. They were moderately spicy, but also had a nice amount of cinammony sweetness. Behold, the chorizo tacos in all their double tortilla glory:




They were topped with freshly chopped tomatoes, onions, jalapenos, and radishes. Radishes, in particular, are our own personal authenticity indicator when it comes to tacos. It seems like such an oddball flourish, that we reason their inclusion must be the secret sign of taco greatness. We've only experienced radish deployment at a few places thus far, but each of those places occupies a coveted slot among our top taco rankings of all time. So there.

The tacos de carne were decent, but the meat was fried to the point where it became dry and crispy, while we were expecting juicy and tender. We would have enjoyed them more had we moderated our expectations accordingly. Their excellent housemade jalapeno hot sauce singlehandedly rescued these tacos for us:




The pupusa, itself, was a glory to behold. Just look at its wondrous irregular shape with the nice bit of griddle charring resulting from errant cheese escaping from the tortilla. But the important cabbage slaw curtido fell short with its mild, almost ketchupy hot sauce.




Other highlights included bottles of Sangria Senorial, the finest grape soda in the world, and a marañon agua fresca, made from cashewfruit juice. This drink is refreshing, but also rather odd, owing to its fruity, nutty, and milky taste. It seems to be a standard Salvadoran agua fresca.

San Vicente is tiny and sparsely decorated, excepting this insane tapestry depicting a festive village scene replete with pupusa-making:




Since our visit, Steve Siegel has followed up with a post noting that San Vicente's "red beans are far and away the best I've ever had. If they can make them consistently well, it would be worth going just for that." He also  differs with us on the curtido, picking up on an element that was simply not in evidence on our visit: "Interesing to note, the 'curtido' which comes with the papusas is liberally dosed with thyme (!) giving a distinct flavor to the cabbage." Clearly there may be more goodness remaining to be uncovered.

Enjoy the greatest chorizo taco we've ever had at San Vicente:

2599 Columbia Pike
Arlington, Virginia
(703) 920-1130

—AC & AK

An Extra Order of Tortillas

AC and I love to spend the day in Georgetown just eating. But it can be a bit troubling when we’re trying to decide where to have the big meal for the day. We’ll contemplate what we had for breakfast or for dinner the previous night, as if that will help our decision. We’ll discuss pros and cons. We’ll even do the “I don’t care, you decide” back-and-forth routine. Funny thing is, 100 percent of the time, it ends up being Don Lobo's Mexican Grill, an authentic Mexican diner.

We love places like Don Lobo’s. It’s a tiny, dark place, kind of shabby, with probably no more than a dozen tables. And more often than not, we’ll see a few employees kicking back with a sopapilla or plate of tacos shooting the breeze with their peers. Upon entering, the gracious host (who clearly recognizes us, but is too polite to say anything) greets us with a smile and immediately brings out the homemade chips and salsa and a couple waters to start. This kind of warm welcome inspires me to tuck the napkin in my collar, grab my knife in one hand, my fork in the other, and get ready to tie it on.

A meal at Don Lobo’s starts out with one of the tastiest salsas in town. It’s a thick tomatoey puree flecked with bits of the charred coating from the roasted peppers, giving the salsa a powerful smokiness. The chips, largely unremarkable at most places, are made on the premises and are right out of the fryer—crispy, a bit greasy, and tough enough to stand up to the piping hot salsa (the salsa really is served piping hot) and chunky guacamole.

As per usual, we have our standbys, but we always force ourselves to branch out. For the favorite, we always share an order of beef fajitas. The beef is unbelievable. The strips are marinated in some ungodly mixture (Tom Sietsema claims pineapple juice is a key component) that makes for the most tender and tasty strips. The marinade is so flavorful that AC will often take pieces of the tortilla and/or the homemade chips and scoop up the juices straight from the blackened skillet so he might savor them on their own merit. I’ve eaten hundreds of Mexican meals in my lifetime, and I have never seen this bizarre activity take place other than at Don Lobo’s with AC.

But what really makes this meal worth crossing the Key Bridge for are the homemade tortillas. It's amazing that such a seemingly unremarkable sliver of a restaurant can produce what are easily the best tortillas in the DC area. About five inches in diameter, these made-on-the-spot corn tortillas are moist, super thick, almost doughy even, and can withstand the overdose of peppers, onions, and nicely charred beef that we are accustomed to eating in one handful.

Unfortunately, each order of fajitas comes with a measly three of these wonderful creations, so, naturally, we always make sure to ask for an extra order. And if you don't order the extra tortillas at the outset and then decide you require their services later, you'll be stuck with a few sad storebought tortillas. That's right- the real handmade tortillas require about 15 minutes of prep time and can't simply be produced on demand. Trust us. We found out the hard way.

And we always get the chicken enchiladas in a red mole sauce. In my experience, enchiladas can be a gamble. There have been so many mediocre enchiladas in my life that I rarely consider it an option. But there are times when the sauce or preparation will sway me. In this case, it was the red mole sauce. We have enjoyed many a mole at various places in various states, and it’s always different. This one, in particular, ranks very high. The thick sauce has a mild flavor of roasted chilis and blankets tender chicken rolled in yet another homemade tortilla.

If there’s even one tiny cubic inch of space left in our stomachs (and frankly, even if there’s not), we’ll likely order some sopapillas, those delightful fried doughy pillows sprinkled with powder sugar and accompanied by a sauce that seems to be a mix of rum, butter, and honey. It’s hard not to love any kind of fried dough, but the sopapillas at Don Lobo’s are among the best we've had: puffed up with heat, thick at the edges, doughy, and slightly chewy, the perfect medium for absorbing the rum, butter, and honey sauce. It’s a great way to end the day because after this meal, we’re done.

Visit Don Lobo’s Mexican Grill at:

2811 M Street NW
Washington, DC  20007
(202) 333-0137

-AK

A Very Special Burrito

Sometimes,
even though you hate a place, there will be things that will lure you
back. Being a mentally stable, suburban resident of the DC area, I,
naturally, hate Adams Morgan. But occasionally, our pals, K and J, will
entice us to take part in the ridiculously cheap beer specials at
Asylum (not to mention the company of two excellent people and hours of
engaging conversation), and we invariably take them up on it.

But there's something else, the power of which I cannot deny, and
the tastes and smells of which I cannot resist, and that is: Tacos
Pepito's Bakery. First of all, the name is a misnomer. While, yes, it
is a bakery, it is really an authentic Mexican take-away, offering all manner
of tacos, burritos, agua frescas, and, of course, a wall of baked
goods.

At first, our friend S wasn't too keen on the fact that Tacos
Pepito's is purely take-away and doesn't have any tables and chairs,
but she soon saw mine and K's famished faces, and, in turn, realized that
if this place is as good as we say, then it must be done.

We all decided on burritos, and I went for chorizo, which was ground
and very spicy. It should be noted that the presentation of the burrito
is unique. The bread is more like a thin lavash bread rather than a
traditional flour tortilla that has been fried and arrives in the
styrofoam container rather crispy and halved, bursting with meat,
refried beans, Mexican rice, and pico. As I mowed my way down each half
of the burrito, I was surprised by pockets of guacamole and sour cream
nestled in the corners. There is nothing more satisfying than plowing
your way through an awesome burrito (did I mention we were sitting on a
stoop out side in 40 degree weather?), and then
finding the salvation that is the cold creaminess of guac and sour
cream, the greatest and tastiest of Mexican food sides.

As we ate in stone-cold silence, passers-by noticed our glut, and
frequently commented things like "bon appetit" or "hungry?" S observed,
wisely, that "people like to see girls really eat." And really eat we
did.
-AK