Street-level cooking

To to any major urban neighborhood in Mexico, such as Mexico City’s Polanco, or Tlaquepaque in Guadalajara, and you’ll spot your friendly taco peddler, selling his wares from a huge cart. South of the border, tacos run around two pesos each, or somewhere in the vicinity of a quarter. And they come in more than a dozen variations, including organ meats like lengua (tongue) or cabeza (beef cheeks), as well as the more familiar suspects.

Visitors to Mexico often approach this food, in my opinion among the world’s tastiest street fare, with a cold eye. But the truth is, since these carts cook in front of you and do a brisk volume, what you eat is almost always fresh and safe. It’s in hotels, actually, where foods are kept in walk-in coolers and plastic containers, that you are likely to get a bug.

La Mexicana, a modest taco shop right across the street from Bonito Michoacan, one of our more popular Mexican restaurants, comes as close to replicating the ethos of the taco peddler as any place I’ve yet visited in Vegas. It also does a brisk business with the local Hispanic community. And that’s probably why this food tastes as fresh as fare from the food carts of major Mexican cities. It’s the volume, silly.

Owner Robert Valencia hails from Sonora, in Mexico’s extreme north, so the flavors are different than those in the bigger cities. The dusky red or green pork stew he serves recalls dishes you’d get in a New Mexico truck stop. You won’t get your taco for a quarter here, but you will get one for the princely sum of 85 cents.

La Mexicana fairly bustles at lunch, when the big-screen TV plays soccer matches from the Mexican Premier League, and the mariachi music piped over a sound system obscures the voice of color man Andres Cantor, famous for his cry of “goooooooaaaaaallll.”

This is an exuberant, colorful room, the walls plastered with head shots of Mexican musicians and boxers, maps and even a poster of Pancho Villa. Tables are raw wood, and the chairs are the high-backed, wicker-upholstered kind you find in old colonial hotels or Mexican tourist-trap souvenir shops. You order at a counter, and a server will bring trays of food to your table. Don’t get carried away because of the low prices. Portions are big.

Before the food comes, you might want to make a trip to the salsa bar, where tomatillo and chipotle salsas are offered, as well as hot peppers. Some dishes appear on the specials blackboard by the front register, an offering that changes daily.

Tuesdays, try caldo de res, a delicious beef-and-vegetable soup loaded with chunks of soft beef. Weekends, there is menudo, a tripe soup reputed to cure hangovers, and birria, which here is beef instead of the more usual goat meat.

My favorite taco is pastor, Spanish for shepherd, because the dish originated with lamb. This version is spicy pork, barbecued and cut into small pieces. If you’re looking to add cilantro, don’t bother. I couldn’t find any on the condiment bar. The lengua is delicious as well, especially when you put some chopped onions on it. Whatever taco you order, there are two steamy hot corn tortillas and a generous portion of meat.

Sometimes there are gorditas on the specials board, two crisped corn shells stuffed with different fillings, such as chorizo sausage and potato; rajas con crema, cactus in a creamy sauce; or chicharron, pork skins, simmered in red sauce. There are also tortas, sandwiches on crusty rolls with your meat of choice, plus shredded lettuce, tomato and salsa. The most popular choice here is carne asada, or sliced steak. Unlike in southern Mexico, a Sonoran torta doesn’t come with avocado, so don’t expect the garnish here.

I will hasten to tell you that La Mexicana is no place for a vegetarian. Most of the vegetarian dishes at this restaurant, such as enchiladas and chiles relleno, are ineligible for the distinction because they are fried in manteca, Spanish for lard. That also applies to the rice and refried beans, which are both terrific, incidentally.

The best way to taste them is on combination plate No. 3, which combines rice, beans and a hand-rolled, meat-filled tamale, with a cheese enchilada and one large, stuffed chili. The chili is naked, in that same dusky red sauce, and fairly oozes white cheese when cut open. It’s lighter than the more usual egg-battered chili, and to my mind, more interesting.

As to the chili rojo and chili verde, those red and green sauce pork stews, also done with rice, beans and tortillas, they are both amazing, probably the best two dishes that the restaurant serves. Call ahead to find out the days they are available.

The only sweet things here are drinks, tamarind, horchata (made from rice) and Jamaica (based on hibiscus flowers). For a nice flan, you’ll have to walk across the street to Bonito Michoacan.

La Mexicana

3675 S. Decatur Blvd. 252-7857.

Suggested dishes: taco al pastor, $0.85; gorditas, $2.50; chile verde, $6.50; combination plate No. 3, $6.95.