Ode to the Tortilla

I love tortillas.

It wasn't always that way.

I am a child of the early 1960s. Then, on the East Coast, our food was influenced by two things: the post-war 1950s (jiggly Jell-O molds anyone?) and what we call Southern food, the everyday cooking of the South. Black or white, we all ate greens, fried chicken, grits, cornbread, black-eyed peas, and pecan pie. Tortillas did not exist in my world.

Looking back, I am trying to remember how my diet evolved from foods of the South to a diet that frequently features tortillas. In the 1970s, as a teenager, I was aware of corn tortillas mainly because the school cafeteria offered so-called tacos, stale hard U-shaped tortillas filled with ground beef of dubious origin. They were bland and boring, something that I had little desire to eat, but being a ravenous teenager, ate anyway. Then, I had no idea that tortillas were soft.

College added to my culinary vocabulary, but still no tortillas. The college cafeteria did not offer tortillas, as best I can remember, but it did introduce me to bagels and blintzes, foods equally unknown in the Southern food canon. In the latter years of college, when I was cooking for myself, I do not recall tortillas for sale at the A&P. But at a secondhand bookstore, I did run across a used copy of Diana Kennedy's 1972 opus "The Cuisines of Mexico." I devoured it even though I had access to none of the ingredients necessary to replicate her recipes.

Enter grad school. After majoring in French in college, I decided to pursue a degree in computer science. I applied all over the country and ultimately selected Texas A&M because they offered the best financial package. Putting myself through college, I had racked up sizeable debt. By going to A&M, I could just barely squeak by without borrowing any more money, if I lived frugally.

Arriving in College Station, one of the first orders of business was to hit the grocery store, albeit on a razor-thin budget. I walked into an alien landscape: mounds of tomatillos, nopales, dried chiles, cilantro, tortillas, and corn husks for tamales—everything labeled in Spanish. All were items I had just read about in Kennedy's cookbook, but had never experienced. We did not have the internet in those days. I learned by asking questions—constant questions—of anyone who looked like they might teach me something.

I fed myself from the grocery store, gradually learning how to use all those ingredients and consuming big quantities of that essential cheap-eat, the taco, made with the corn tortillas that were for sale at every store.

In exploring the town, I came to notice a steady stream of hispanic workers heading for a particular building, one bearing the sign La Taqueria. Inside, I found a dozen freshly made hand-patted tortillas for a dollar and an abuelita who always ensured that my docena was at least 14 or 15 tortillas. She and I had an unspoken understanding—a dozen tortillas each morning. I was the only white guy in her store every morning and she took care of me as she would one of her own.

Soft, warm tortillas tasting of corn were light years away from the prepackaged store tortillas and even farther from the boxed U-shaped crap my high school tried to get me to eat. Suddenly, I became a full-fledged member of team corn tortilla, eating some fresh and warm for breakfast and the remainder for dinner.

After college, my first wife and I would eat out rarely, for lack of time and resources, and when we did, there was a so-called Mexican restaurant nearby with attractive prices, never mind that it was totally run by non-Mexicans. Here I learned about flour tortillas and found them lackluster. After warm and fresh corn tortillas, everything else seemed wanting.

I find it ironic that a food I had never even seen as a child has become one of the staples of our kitchen. Now in retirement, when I am looking to put a tasty meal on the table without a lot of fuss, tortillas are always on hand. And when I am feeling up to some work, I even make fresh tortillas from the various masas that I have in the pantry.

Here are a few recent meals that remind me just how indispensable corn tortillas have become in our kitchen, despite having been completely unknown to me as a child.

Loaded Quesadilla

Loaded quesadillas are a happy by-product of leftover grilled chicken and baked creamed corn. I topped a quartered corn tortilla and jack cheese quesadilla with creamed corn, sliced grilled chicken, and guacamole. This is much more of a splurge meal calorie-wise than I usually make.

Chef's Tip: The best guacamole is the simplest, made from ripe avocados, lime juice, and salt, mashed gently so that it retains some texture.

Spiced Shrimp Tacos

I coated the shrimp in a spice mix (ancho chile, Chimayo chile, cumin, granulated garlic, Mexican oregano, salt) that I make on the fly, then cook them quickly on the stove top.

Chef's Tip: I love slaw on my tacos for its brightness and crunch. I make it an hour or more before eating, starting by mixing the dressing (apple cider vinegar, salt, and ground chile) in a bowl. Then with a knife, I thinly shred young cabbage and thinly slice a carrot to add to the dressing. I generally chop a little cilantro and mix it in as well. I let it stand on the counter for a while after tossing well, then adjust the seasonings.

Guacamole and Scrambled Egg Tostadas with Salsa Fresca

Here is a dinner that, tostadas aside, takes mere minutes to put on the table. The salsa fresca is chopped grape tomatoes, minced shallots, cilantro, lime juice, and salt. I never intended it to be spicy, but add any kind of spice you like.

Chef's Tip: As much as I would love to deep fry the tostadas, my waist would suffer, so I place them between two sheet trays, to keep them flat, in a moderate oven. I flip and rotate the tortillas after 15 minutes, then once again in 15 more minutes, then every 5 to 7 minutes thereafter until the tostadas are crisp. I make 8 per half sheet tray.

Frijoles Refritos con Totopos; Fresh Corn Salsa

I cook a big pot of beans every week or so. The first night, we eat a bowl of beans with warm tortillas. The second night, I convert the leftovers to refried beans. Sometimes it is fun to cut tortillas into sixths and bake them until they become crispy chips. Chips and dip seems a splurge, but this version is surprisingly healthy. To make refried beans, I finely dice a half onion and cook it briefly in a bit of canola with a finely minced chipotle. Then I add the beans and their cooking liquid, apply my masher to them, and cook until thick. Once thick, I season them with salt. I cook the beans originally with only a little salt; if they had full salt, the refried beans would become too salty after all the liquid evaporates.

Chef's Tip: Raw corn makes a great salsa with mixed with a little tomato, cilantro, chipotle adobo, lime, and salt. If the corn is really mature bordering on too ripe, I will often char it hard in a cast iron pan for a different, if similar, salsa.

Tacos de Tinga de Pollo

Chicken Tinga is so good, so easy, and so much more than the sum of its parts, whether purpose-made or from leftover chicken. I have little use for bland chicken breast, so when I roast a chicken, the breast will be leftover. I shred it and warm it with tomatoes, onions, chipotle, and Mexican oregano until it is dry enough for a taco filling.

Chef's Tip: The best tinga de pollo is purpose made. I brown chicken thighs in a big skillet on both sides before removing the chicken. Then I cook a sliced onion in the pan until limp. I add diced tomatoes and their juice, a minced chipotle, and some Mexican oregano to the pan. I nestle the chicken back into the sauce, cover it, and bake until tender. Then I pull the chicken, let it cool, and shred the meat. The meat goes back into the sauce and reduces until thick, yielding a far superior product. Bonus points for letting the cooked chicken sit in its sauce overnight in the fridge. Like many dishes, it improves overnight.

Shrimp Vegetable Tacos

These are nothing much more than diced onions and poblanos cooked down with minced cilantro stems and a lot of garlic. When the vegetables are soft, I add small shrimp and cook until they are just done. I then mix in raw sweet corn and a handful of fresh cilantro.

Chef's Tip: To make an easy garnishing sauce, thin sour cream with lime juice and season with salt and chipotle adobo to your liking.

José Restaurant, Dallas

We considered several options to get to San Angelo TX to visit with Carter for his 25th birthday. The most efficient proved to be to fly to Dallas, rent a car, and drive the four hours to San Angelo. With a return flight to Oregon at 10am on Monday morning, we decided that we would return to Dallas on Sunday evening and camp out at a hotel near the airport, especially given the inefficiency of the rental car system at DFW.

This schedule left us with the opportunity to have a nice dinner in Dallas on Sunday night, a night when many restaurants are not open. Of all the places we could have gone, we chose José near Love Field in north Dallas, an easy drive from our hotel near DFW. José is known for its elevated Guadalajaran-inflected food and drink, a celebrated female chef in AQ Pittman, its use of house-made masa from corn brought in from Mexico, and a segment on "Taco Chronicles," the Netflix show that you do not dare watch if you are remotely hungry or trying to lose weight.

The Very Handsome Floor-to-Ceiling Back Bar at José

As a chef, when I go to a restaurant, I just want the kitchen team at that restaurant to show me what they do well. The restaurant knows far better than I do what they do well. So, why should I order off the menu if I have the option to let my hosts decide? It's a rare restaurant that will roll with a request to just order for Ann and me (there are some technical POS issues, but that's more a cop out than anything), so when I e-mailed asking if they would just order for us, I was pleasantly surprised to get an affirmative response from GM Victor Rojas within a short while.

Just as we were seated, a runner dropped off a basket of totopos and a couple of salsas, one red and one green. The green salsa was one of the standouts of the night. It was almost identical to the usual salsa verde I make at home, except that it was smoother and less rustic. I really enjoyed it. It's the small things for me that make an experience.

Within a couple of minutes of our being seated, Victor appeared at our table bearing amuses and introduced himself. He would take great care of us personally for most of the evening and we greatly enjoyed chatting with him.

Blue Corn Sopecito with Blue Crab Salad

While we were munching on the tiny sopes and contemplating the cocktail menu, I had a chance to look around the spacious dining room of the building that was once a dry cleaner. The industrial steel clear span framing gives a large open interior and high ceilings that leave room for an immense custom floor-to-ceiling back bar that is the focal point of the room.

Back to the table, the star of the sopecitos was not the crab, but the blue corn masa from which they were made. One of the primary reasons we selected this restaurant is because they nixtamalize their own corn and grind their own masa. Nixtamalization is the process of soaking dried corn kernels in a basic solution that dissolves the hard outer shell, the pericarp, of the kernel.

It is a process that my great grandmothers would have used to make the hominy (posole) so prevalent to the Scots-Irish Appalachians. When I was a boy, I would often see ash hoppers at country auctions. People would fill these hoppers with ashes from the fireplace and the rainwater would filter through the hopper and drain into a bucket below. The solution in the bucket would be lye, potassium hydroxide. Today, rather than using lye, we use refined hydrated lime (calcium hydroxide) called cal to nixtamalize corn.

Victor helped us choose cocktails. I had a riff on a Manhattan called the The José Way Manhattan, a dark complex mixture of mezcal, amaro, Banane du Brésil, vanilla, and Angostura bitters. Ann had a smoked tequila Old Fashioned of reposado, agave, and a couple of bitters. We really enjoyed our cocktails; they are similar to what we are making currently at our home bar where Ann's Oaxacan Old Fashioned will hang with anybody's.

Ann and Her Smoked Tequila Old Fashioned

The José Way Manhattan

Victor also brought us small glasses of the house mezcal and said that he had gone to Mexico to help make it. After smelling its unusual fruity nose similar to an eau de vie or schnapps, I asked how it was made. It is a pechuga of 100% espadín piñas. The pechuga used in the redistillation came from things that he sourced at the market: apples, guavas, and chile chilhaucle. I have had pechugas flavored with all sorts of things, but this was the most unique mezcal that I have ever tasted, a smooth and highly refined spirit that I enjoyed.

Arugula with Peaches, Fresnos, Grilled Okra, and Goat Cheese

Next up was an arugula salad course, the standout of the meal for me. The salad was plated on a spread of goat cheese from fairly local (Waco) Pachi Pachi Farms. The best parts were the fresh salad ingredients: sliced peaches, sliced mildly spicy Fresnos, and the revelatory ingredient, sliced grilled okra. I also loved the crunch of the toasted quinoa sprinkled on the salad.

As a southerner, I have grown, harvested, and cooked okra all my life. Even though I have cooked it myriad ways, I never thought to grill it gently. The smokiness from the grill enhances the small tender okra without activating any of its slime. In the highest form of chef flattery, I may rip this off, if I can ever find some tender baby okra out here in Oregon where it is essentially non-existent. 

Champagne Telmont

Our cocktails were done after the salad, so wanting a wine that would be able to stand up to anything that might come next, we went the sparkling route, ordering a bottle of Champagne Telmont. A label that we have not had before, it was a fine all-purpose wine with lots of red fruit dominating the nose, the palate balanced by a healthy addition of Chardonnay.

Dobladas de Pollo Enmoladas

Our first course with the Champagne was a plate of dobladas covered in mole. I detected chicken thigh meat, poblanos, and a white melting cheese inside the fresh tortillas and the top had a good sprinkle of queso fresco. To be honest, I wasn't expecting mole in a self-styled Jaliscan/Guadalajaran restaurant, but I have never met a mole I did not like.

Victor referred to the mole as "aged mole," meaning that each new batch contains some of the previous batch, old school, the way it has always been and should be done. He regaled us with the story of the line cook who thought to put the final batch of mole before COVID into the freezer to be used as a starter on the far side of the pandemic. Good looking out!

The mole on these dobladas was a fairly dark, fruity, complex sauce that in my world I would call a mole poblano. As much as I loved this mole, I cannot help but wonder how this combination of chicken, poblanos, and cheese would respond to a mole verde or pipián.

The star of this dish was neither the mole nor the filling. To quote Ann, “that tortilla though!” She would have been content with a stack of those tortillas and a ramekin of that excellent salsa verde. As would I.

Carne Asada, "Patatas Bravas," Salsa Roja

The Carne was an Excuse to Snack Fresh Tortillas!

We would get more awesome tortillas with our next dish, a cast iron dish of carne asada, onions, and peppers, served with whole roasted potatoes tossed in spice ("patatas bravas"), and a beautiful salsa roja. The eye opener from this dish was the salsa roja, an intense concentrated tomato sauce. The sauce was enhanced with smoky chile morita. The texture of the sauce and the smokiness reminded me in the best way of a beautiful roasted eggplant sauce.

Again, while the meat was awesome (sous vide tenderloin, I think), the tortillas and the salsa roja stole the thunder. Ann and I asked for more tortillas with which we polished off all that delicious sauce.

Coconut Flan with Candied Amaranth and Pepita Topping

Neither Ann nor I are dessert eaters because sweet flavors are not really our thing. Flan is so often cloying and pedestrian, but not so in this case. The pastry chef had a deft hand with the sugar and the addition of coconut milk made this flan much more interesting than usual. 

After dinner, Victor brought us little glasses of dark, barely sweet Fernet-Vallet as a digestif, a nice parting gesture. We thanked him profusely for his hospitality, the willingness to order for us, the excellent staff training, and of course, a delicious meal for which I would like to thank all the BoH team, especially the prep cooks and dishwashers who never get any credit, but without whom, nothing would happen.

The stand-out components of our meal were none of the star players. The glory goes to the supporting actors: the masa, the grilled okra, the salsa verde, and the salsa roja.

I compliment Victor, a consummate hospitality professional, and the service team on their attentiveness. I always love going to a restaurant where the entire service team takes responsibility for all guests, not the usual "not my table, not my problem" attitude. The FoH staff at José are well trained. Not a lot of guests would notice this, but then, I'm not an average guest, having owned, cooked at, and run a fine dining restaurant for a very long time.

Crunchy Fish Tacos

I've recently revived an old technique for fish tacos and Annie loves the results. Here's how I turned a couple of Pacific Cod fillets into fish tacos.

Pacific Cod Fish Tacos

In recent years, I have been coating fish fillets for tacos with a spice rub and roasting them in the oven. This is certainly a healthy way to eat fish, but many people will miss the crunchy crust of fried fish in their tacos. That got me asking myself how I can get a crispy crust on fish for tacos using a minimum of oil.

Thinking back many decades to when I was just learning how to cook Chinese food (as if there is but a single Chinese cuisine, ha!), I remember using cornstarch not only to thicken sauces and soups, but as a way to coat meat for wok frying. And so I decided to use a bit of cornstarch on fish fillets and to fry them in as little oil as possible.

I cut the cod fillets into pieces that will fit into my pan and then sprinkle both sides with seasonings (sometimes my fish rub, link above). For this particular batch of fish, rather than use a rub, I merely sprinkled both sides with salt, ground New Mexican chile, and a touch of granulated garlic. Then I put a thin coat of cornstarch on both sides.

Pan-Searing Pacific Cod Using Almost No Oil

We eat a lot of tacos at our house because they are quick, tasty, and who doesn't love finger food? One way that I make them quick to prepare is by keeping a lot of garnishes on hand in the refrigerator on a regular basis. These include pickled jalapeños, salsa verde, romaine bottoms, and a squeeze bottle of thinned chipotle sour cream. By planning ahead, tacos take less than ten minutes to bring to the table, just what I want on a busy day or on a day when I don't have the energy or desire to cook an involved meal.

Fish Taco Toppings: (L-R) Pickled Jalapenos, Tomatoes,
Salsa Verde, Cilantro, Chipotle Sour Cream, and Romaine

I've published the recipe for salsa verde before, but it's just a bunch of cilantro, a large can of drained tomatillos, a serrano chile, two cloves of garlic, and a pinch of salt, all blended. We use romaine lettuce on our lunch sandwiches and I always keep the bottoms of the bunches in a bag in the fridge. When it's time for tacos, I slice the bottoms thinly for a crunchy garnish. Chipotle sour cream is merely sour cream, water, salt, and chipotle adobo.

Spring Grilling: Carne Asada

Here in beautiful Bend, Oregon, spring is starting slowly with the appearance of the first buds on trees and the advent of milder, though still cool, temperatures. The nicer weather has inspired me to get my grill cleaned up and reassembled after the move from McMinnville in February. My goal: to grill the  package of skirt steaks, labelled also in Spanish, arracheras, that I came across at the grocery store.

Tacos de Carne Asada

Skirt steak is not all that common at grocery stores here in the PNW, which is a shame, because it is the perfect cut for carne asada, thin and flavorful. No lie, it is one of my most favorite grilling cuts.

Carne asada, literally grilled meat, with beef being implied, isn't typically a meal in itself, though it can be. The grilled skirt steak is generally chopped and used in other dishes, such as tacos. In norteño culture, carne asada can also mean the event at which the meat is grilled, a barbeque in American terms.

To celebrate the coming of spring and the first barbeque in our new home, I decided to make carne asada tacos with a quick salsa roja, cilantro, raw onion, and a sprinkle of cotija cheese, pictured above.

Arracheras on the Grill

For carne asada, skirt steaks are generally marinated before grilling and a lot of people use a wet marinade. I prefer something simpler, rubbing the steaks with oil, a generous amount of salt, a bit of freshly ground cumin, minced garlic, and finely chopped cilantro stems. I left the steaks in the fridge for 3-4 days to absorb the rub, though this is certainly not necessary. I've never been a big fan of wet marinades on steaks, because I feel that the liquid inhibits the really great grill sear and char that you see in the photo below.

Grilled Skirt Steaks: Carne Asada

I also go against conventional wisdom in grilling my carne asada to medium going on medium well. Convention says that skirt steak is tough and so you want to cook it rather less than more. Having grilled thousands of skirt steaks, I have to disagree. I have found that a tough, stringy steak like a skirt steak is very hard to chew when rare to medium rare. And so I opt for medium to a bit beyond, say medium well.

Recipe: Salsa Roja (Guajillo-Chipotle)

I make all manner of salsas and keep them in the fridge to have on hand whenever I want some. In general, I don't use tomato in my red sauce, but this time, I decided to stretch my supply of dried chiles with a can of tomatoes.

Toasting Stemmed and Seeded Guajillos

Chiles After Toasting and Soaking

Finished Salsa Roja

Following is the recipe I used for this batch of mildly spicy red salsa. You can alter it as you see fit.

4 guajillo chiles, stemmed, toasted, and soaked

4 chipotles en adobo

6 cloves garlic

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar (or lime juice)

1-28 ounce can tomatoes in juice

salt to taste

Remove the stems and seeds from the dried chiles. If you are not certain how spicy the chiles are, you might want to wear gloves while doing this.

Toast the chiles in a dry pan until they start to smell good, but stop before they char. Move them around while toasting so that they do not burn.

Off heat, cover the chiles with water and let them soften. This will take an hour or so.

Drain the chiles and place them along with all the other ingredients in the blender. Blend until smooth. If the salsa is too thick, thin with water. Season to taste with salt.

Bonus Dish: "Steak and Eggs"

When grilling carne asada, it always makes sense to me to make more than I need because the leftovers are really useful for a quick meal. In this case, I made steak and eggs with the largest skirt steak. First, I cooked the leftover onions from the tacos from the night before, then added the diced skirt steak and the leftover cilantro. I just warmed the meat through, trying not to cook it any further.

Reheated Carne Asada with Onion and Cilantro

"Steak and Eggs"

The "steak and eggs" is a bowl of scrambled eggs topped with the reheated carne asada, fresh tomato, salsa verde, pimentón sauce, more cilantro, and a sprinkle of cotija cheese. Recipes for salsa verde and pimentón sauce are here.

Cinco de Mayo

Time to celebrate! Ann and I are now three weeks or so past our COVID booster shots and we feel relatively safe to socialize in small groups outdoors with others who have also been vaccinated. To better get to know our neighbors, from whom we've been at a considerable distance over the last year, we're embarking on a series of porch parties, the first of which we held on Cinco de Mayo.

Unlike a lot of previous affairs, we kept this one really simple and now that we're retired, simple will be the model going forward. I made refried black beans with salsa fresca as a chip dip and a large bowl of rajas con crema, creamed strips of poblano chiles with corn, for tacos. Liz brought a platter of pork quesadillas and Sandy brought a black bean salad. Annie made tequila-lime cupcakes for dessert.

Annie was in charge of décor, arranging everything just so and picking some flowers for the bar. Libation-wise, I made a batch of margaritas and put cheap Mexican beer and white wine on ice. Easy.

After everyone left, Ann and I cleaned up from dinner (disposable plates and cups, not very Oregon eco-blahblah, but easy) and then went back outside on the patio to enjoy the first really beautiful night of the year.

This was the most normal we have felt in a very, very long time. What a relief! Maybe the light at the end of the COVID tunnel is not a train after all.

Tacos de Calabaza

It's no secret that we love tacos and we love really tasty vegetarian food, so I've been making a lot of vegetarian tacos: rajas con crema, grilled vegetable, spaghetti squash and black bean, and now, butternut squash and poblano pepper.

I thought of these orange and green tacos some weeks ago but I hadn't committed the time to roast butternut squash cubes until yesterday. The idea came from a vegetarian green chile with butternut that I made about the beginning of December. I knew the sweet roasted flavor of the squash would pair tremendously with the mildly spicy earthy flavor of the poblanos. The result was wicked good.

Tacos de Calabaza: Butternut Squash and Poblano

To make the taco filling, I cubed and roasted a butternut, then made a quick sauté of large dice of poblano, diced red onion, sliced green onion, minced garlic, and minced cilantro stems, with just a hint of ground mild Numex chile. I added the squash to the sauté and seasoned it before serving it on corn tortillas with chipotle adobo, cotija cheese, and cilantro leaves. Keeper!

Fish and Black Bean Tostadas

Fish and Black Bean Tostadas

We eat a lot of tacos suaves at our house. Sometimes we are looking for a little different texture, so I have been making tostadas recently. The latest batch is fish and black bean, the black beans helping to stretch the expensive fish and also to bulk the dish so that we consume fewer tortillas. We might only eat 3 or 4 tostadas, but if we're just having tacos, we're probably going to eat 5 or 6.

This dish has three components: the tostadas, the beans, and the fish. If you need a refresher on making tostadas, you can find it here. The black beans are flavored with a soffritto of (scraps from the refrigerator) red onion, shallot, green onion, cilantro stems, garlic, and mild ground Numex chile. The fish (Pacific rockfish) is baked on a sheet tray after being sprinkled with a mix of mild ground Numex chile, ground cumin, granulated garlic, salt, and aromatic Mexican oregano.

For us, tostadas are a great change of pace. And these fish and black bean ones were so delicious that they'll probably become something of a regular replacement for fish tacos.

Vegetable Tacos

Vegetable tacos are something that I started making seriously this summer during grilling season and because they are so delicious, have become a regular quick dinner chez nous. Since I first posted about them back in October, I have formulated a strategy for making them that I will outline below, using vegetables that I prepared stovetop.

Vegetable Tacos

As I have been experimenting with dozens of veggie tacos, I have fallen into a procedure which involves mixing cooked ingredients with raw ingredients just before serving. This yields a warm, but super fresh taco.

Preparing the Raw Ingredients

In a large bowl, I mix the raw ingredients: green onion, cilantro, tomatoes, cotija, and finely minced chipotle. In season, I would likely include raw corn in this mix.

Searing the Cooked Ingredients

For the cooked ingredients, which I grill in good weather, the mix varies depending on what I have on hand. This pan contains onions, poblanos, yellow squash, and asparagus. Almost anything goes in veggie tacos and I have used eggplant, zucchini, and green beans this past summer. To mimic the intense cooking on the grill, sear the veggies hard if you are using a pan.

When the veggies are done, mix them immediately with the raw ingredients and season to taste with salt and spice. Serve with slices of lime on warm corn tortillas.

Although veggie tacos don't sound all that great, I assure you that they are delicious and addictive.