I’ve driven by Las Pericas (915 E. Northside Dr., 817-332-5997) 1,000 times and thought, “That is probably right up my alley.” The small, boxy taqueria looks the part of an inviting dive gem. Finally, after my 1,001st drive-by, I stopped in for lunch.
The building is engulfed in concrete on all sides, and it’s situated so near the curb on Northside Drive, you can practically feel the draft from passing cars. On my recent visit, a huge truck whizzed by, and you might have thought my booth was a coin operated massage chair it rattled so hard.
The place has all of the quirk you look for in a hole in the wall. Weird/cool wood-carved cigar-store Indian statuettes stare coldly at guests. Motel-esque framed art lines the top of the walls above the windows, as if someone thought, “We need something to distract customers from the speeding cars inches away from them.”
The menu is written in both Spanish and English, which I view as a plus. Who wants to go to a taqueria that caters only to gringos? Curiously, the only tacos the kitchen offers for lunch come in an order of six. I couldn’t tell if they were served a la carte or if maybe they were tiny tacos, because our server didn’t speak English, and that’s too nuanced of a question to articulate through gestures.
My guest tried to order a plate of cow brains, and our server just shook her head from side to side. I wasn’t sure if she thought my pal needed a more entry-level Mexican dish or the kitchen was sold out. Either way, he settled for the very tender stew of Asado De Puerco ($8.99), slow-cooked pork simmered in a combination of dried ancho and cascabel chilis. The meat melted away on my tongue, and a single spice tear rolled down my cheek like an Indian chief watching someone litter.
My very similar-looking Guisado de Res ($8.99), a mix of beef tips, slow-cooked chipotle peppers, tomato sauce, and green bell peppers, wasn’t as spicy, but it was every bit as tender and delicious. Both entrées were served with bland rose-colored rice, passable refried beans that begged for salt, and a cursory salad of shredded iceberg lettuce and a single unseasoned, dull, lifeless tomato.
I was struck by two things as we ate, One, all three staffers were standing staring at us, arms folded, exactly like the Indian figures. Everyone was nice, but we definitely picked up on a “you ain’t from around here” vibe. Secondly, for a restaurant whose menu and service staff was en Español, there were an awful lot of white people around, which made the little restaurant feel like I wasn’t the one who discovered it.
I guess I’ll have to get used to the idea of sharing Las Pericas with other gringos. For a place that’s so off the beaten path, it sure is easy to find.
Contact Chow, Baby at chowbaby@fwweekly.com.
