Eat This Now: Tacos at Tacos El Tio
Between life and death, we still have tacos.
Photo by Samantha Russell
Uncle! Tacos El Tio’s devilishly good tacos are heaven-sent. They have quickly become my everything comfort food. Rainy afternoon? Tacos El Tio. Soppy emotional day, or close to it? Tacos El Tio. House to myself and no willpower to cook? Tacos El Tio.
As a gluten and dairy-intolerant individual, I sing the praises of the humble but mighty street taco. Doubled corn tortillas filled with succulently marinated meat, combined with the perfect sprinkling of cilantro and light crunch of chopped white onions, are welcome to grace my gullet. Tacos El Tio brings solace to my belly akin to a bedtime storybook: warm, cherished, satiated.
I call ahead to get my tacos to-go. Three street tacos cost me less than ten dollars. This is a cash-only establishment so I always come prepared with barista cash tip money in hand. By girl math standards, I’m not spending a dime. This money never saw my bank account. My credit card payments will never crush me with the posted memory of how often I frequent their joint.
Photo by Samantha Russell
At Tacos El Tio, when you order one thing, you get two more via complementary sides. Three hand-sized tin-foil packages are stacked in the bag along with green chile and rojo sauces. They’re like little presents to unwrap.
The first unwrapping contains the desired street tacos. I’m forever a salami-and-baby-back-ribs girl at heart, so my go-tos are pork favorites: al pastor and carnitas. Carne asada rounds out the third. A second tinfoil package holds skinned and sliced cucumbers along with lime wedges. The portion of the meal that persuades you that this meal is a toast to health.
The third package is mystifying at first sight and taste: a muddling of tender grilled vegetables. The near-caramelized onions are cooked to soft, sullen perfection. Only on bold days do I nibble the roasted jalapeño wrapped up alongside.
Each bite is a construction of flavor left up to one’s preference. Drizzle a little green chile salsa for a mouth-melding experience or a few drops of fresh-squeezed lime for a bright citrus kick. Dance between each taco flavor with a cucumber slice to cleanse the palate. Best of all — best of all — take one bite of that meaty-onion-cilantro-grease-drenched goodness and follow it up with a single heavenly piece of caramelized onion. That sweet perfection blankets each taste bud ignited in the bite prior like a soft coalescing cloud.
Photo by Samantha Russell
Grease escaping the double corn tortilla outer layer lovingly saturates a waxed piece of paper before being wholly contained by tin foil wrapping. I am always left shaking my head at this fusion of flavor. It’s a transcendental experience so good, it shouldn’t be real.
If you drive up Reynolds Ave. to arrive at Tacos El Tio like I do, you’ll face a stark reminder of mortality. A yard lot full of Cadillac and Lincoln hearses rests across the street from the restaurant. This image enters my mind upon first bite of the delectable taco — soon-to-be little lipids packing my arteries. But for now, I have cucumber to nullify any grease entering my bloodstream (girl math, part II).
Between life and death, we still have tacos. Long live the street taco.
Tacos El Tio is at 78 N 10th St, Kansas City, KS 66102.
