There will be no mariachi bands marching through our house on Cinco de Mayo, but there will be tacos, and maybe some good Mexican beer. And I have to confess that I came to the taco party late. When I was growing up our spices were limited to Christmas nutmeg, cinnamon for cinnamon toast, black pepper and baking powder. Garlic was an exotic commodity. Red pepper was on the tables at Italian restaurants. I doubt if my mother was acquainted with cumin. We never had Mexican food. My mother’s idea of adventurous ethnic cooking was preparing corned beef for St. Patrick’s Day. And so my indoctrination came from my peers, as are so many seminal youthful experiences
The first tacos I had were at my friend Sheila’s older sister’s place. Margo was sophisticated and modern. We adored her and the string of characters who wandered through her tiny beach house. She made tacos with regularity, and we mooched often. I learned how to shred the cheese and the lettuce and chop the onions that went on top of the taco meat, which we browned in a frying pan and then covered with a packet of Old El Paso Taco Seasoning Mix and a cup of water. I thought it couldn’t get any better than that.
Sheila and I graduated to platters of nachos and tacos at the Viva Zapata restaurant. (I think we were actually more attracted to the cheap pitchers of sangria, which we drank, sitting outside in dappled shade under leafy trees, enjoying languid summer vacations.) And then we wandered into Mama Vicky’s Old Acapulco Restaurant, with its dodgy sanitation, but exquisitely flaming jalapeños on the lard-infused refried beans. Ah, youth.
True confession: my children were raised on tacos made with Old El Paso Taco Seasoning, but they always had vegetarian or fat-free refried beans. This weekend I am introducing them to the wonders of Mark Bittman’s mix-free beef tacos. (The Pescatarian will have to figure out how to do a fish version for herself.)
Beef Tacos
45 minutes, serves 4
½ cup vegetable oil
12 small 5-inch tortillas (I only ever manage to eat 2, but the Tall One will probably require a few more)
1 pound ground beef (try to get grass fed)
Salt & pepper
1 medium onion, chopped
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 fresh hot chile (like jalapeño) seeded & minced, optional
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 cup roughly chopped radishes for garnish
2 limes, quartered, for serving
I cook the meat first and then fry up the taco shells, but Mark Bittman does the shells first, and he hold more sway than I do.
Crumble the ground beef into a frying pan, sprinkle with salt and pepper, breaking up the meat as it cooks, until it starts to brown – about 5 or 10 minutes. Add the onion and cook, until it softens and begins to color. 5 or 10 minutes more.
Add the garlic and the chile (be sure to wash your hands thoroughly after handling the chile – I didn’t and rubbed my eye and wept for a good while afterward) and cook about 3 minutes, until they soften. Add the cumin and tomato paste and cook and stir until fragrant. I added a little water, perhaps a throw back from my Old El Paso training, but the mixture just seemed too dry. Experiment for yourself.
Warm the oil in another frying pan over a medium-high heat. Put a tortilla shell in the oil, and let it bubble for about 15 seconds before turning it over, carefully, with tongs. Let that side bubble away for another 15 seconds or so and then fold the shell in half. Turn it back and forth until it is as crisp as you want. Best Beloved likes a softer shell, I like explosively brittle.
Divide the meat into the lovely, crunchy shells and top with cilantro and radishes. Squeeze some lime on top. Good-bye to grated cheese. Good-bye to too much sodium. (There are 370mg of sodium in a 1 ounce packet of Old El Paso. [I still have a packet in the spice cabinet, obviously.] Plus it costs about $1.59, so just imagine how much better this recipe is for you, healthwise and financially.) Open beer, pour beer, drink beer.
Other topping suggestions:
Guacamole, chopped tomatoes, shredded cabbage, chopped scallions, black beans, salsa, shredded lettuce, chopped peppers, sour cream.
When the Tall One and the Pouting Princess were little and still couldn’t read, I used spinach for their tacos instead of lettuce. I don’t think they have forgiven me yet.
Happy Cinco de Mayo!
“On the subject of spinach: divide into little piles. Rearrange again into new piles. After five of six maneuvers, sit back and say you are full.”
-Delia Ephron
A video from Mark Bittman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYpVvO8b_FA
Bittman, Mark. (2012). How to Cook Everything. The Basics: All You Need to Know to Make Great Food, Beef Tacos, 392, 393
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