La Verdad taco battle royal: pavo v. pato

Ding ding! Seconds away, round four of the quest to discover which of the tacos at La Verdad reigns supreme.

So far, we've seen the tense face-off between carnitas and tripa and the early-round knockout brawls of steak v. lengua and fish v. chorizo.

Now, with most of the options eliminated, only two remain: duck and turkey. (I should note that I'm skipping the shrimp, which I don't do, and the chile, which may be off the menu.)



Now boys, I want a good clean fight. No biting, slurping or drooling. Not possible? Then here are some napkins.

First up, turkey taco. I'd vaguely assumed this would be made with thin, pale slices of bland deli meat — it's the American way — so was delighted to discover the generous chunks of roast bird.



And the sauce was fantastic: hints of cinnamon and citrus in a rich mole, and enough fire to call out the presence of chiles without overwhelmingly masking the other flavors. The whole was finished with sesame seeds for a nutty crunch and the usual bright zing of cilantro and lime.

Okay duck, you're gonna need to do some fancy footwork here.



Off to a good start.

But the duck taco just couldn't land the winning punch. Though allegedly confit, the meat was dry and a little chewy. The sauce (another mole, this one without heat) was tasty but didn't have the personality of the turkey version.

Winner: Taco de pavo.

Okay, actually, that's not completely true.

This round had a surprise competitor in the shape of Lovely Co-worker Sarah's chorizo torta.

And when La Verdad says "torta," it really means "bun full of goodness."



And when I say "goodness," I mean "delicious things made with meat and fat."



The chorizo was the kind that came straight out of a can and left neon orange achiote stains on everything, which is exactly as it should be. Also crammed into the bun: refried beans, guacamole and asadero cheese.

This unforeseen and delicious entrant now leaves me in a quandary. See, originally I'd intended to pit the first-round winners (carne asada, chorizo, carnitas and pavo) against each other to find the best of the best.

And recently I'd thought of checking out the new kids on the block, Olecito and Dorado Tacos & Cemitas, to see whether they could bring it.

But now I'm wondering whether I should just work through the entire La Verdad menu. What do you think?

La Verdad taco battle royal: carnitas v. tripa

In the continuing quest to discover which of the tacos at La Verdad rules above all others (the taco supreme, if you will), we turn to the face-off between the carnitas and the tripa.

Full disclosure: I love carnitas. Love love love. Would marry if legal in Massachusetts.

My previous experiences of tripe, on the other hand, involve the thin-sliced rubbery stuff encountered in pho dac biet (which The Boy loves), and the Devil's Tower-like gelatinous mass they used to keep on the counter of the pet store in my hometown (which dogs loved).

So yes, I did go into this round with a slight bias. But I tried not to let that color my judgement.

Here we go.

Carnitas:





A nice variety of parts of the pig: some good carmelized crispy roasted bits as well as the paler, fattier shreds. The green salsa verde sauce (TM) gave it a nice fresh zing.

But.

But.

One of the consequences, for better or worse, of being married to a Puerto Rican is that I've come to expect a certain level of salt in my pork (and in my rice, for that matter). And these carnitas, while juicy and fatty and otherwise delicious, were saddled with an underabundance of saltiness.

It didn't make it bad (she adds hastily); it just meant the flavor wasn't as bold as it could have been.

So, tripa, what have you got to say for yourself?





And thus I learned how good tripe can be when slow-cooked. It was not chewy or rubbery as I'd come to expect, but quite tender.

La Verdad's takeout menu (PDF) describes this as "grandma's tripe," which leads me to believe abuela was a feisty lady. The meat was smothered in a searingly spicy sauce, making it impossible to get any sense of the flavor of the tripe itself; the accompanying red onion and scallions pretty much got lost in the sensory chaos.

So although the carnitas didn't rock my world as much as I'd expected, the flavors were still closer to my preference. And while the tripe has made me think twice before eschewing it in future, it was too picante for my palate.

Winner: taco de carnitas

Okay, who's next?

La Verdad taco battle royal: steak v. lengua, pescado v. chorizo

My spring project: trying all the taco options at La Verdad until one emerges victorious.

It's crazy that I'd only been to La Verdad once, considering how close it is to Fenway Park (and by extension, my office).

One side is a restaurant, which would be a nicer place to sit outside were it not for the fact that you're looking at the utilitarian grunge of Lansdowne Street; the other side is a cozy, bright, four-table cafe/takeout counter.





The taquería menu is small and perfectly formed (this is only part of it):



But how to decide which tacos to order? Yaaagh! The only correct action would be to work through all of them and find a favorite.

Thus begins my project.

That first visit, I went for a carne asada and a lengua.

Carne asada:



Skirt steak was fantastic, juicy and well seasoned, though the accompanying spicy sauce (made with chiles de arbol) was a little more picante than I like, and overwhelmed the subtleness of the lovely meat. (Mind you, this from someone who doesn't put dressing on salad because she wants to be able to taste greens, not Italian Ranch.)

Lengua:



The tongue was well done but a little bland; in this case, the salsa arbol helped (though, again, perhaps a little too enthusiastically). Diced red onion gave a nice crunch.

Winner: Taco de carne asada

This week, I went back to try a couple more: pescado y chorizo



(Given my salad-dressing preferences, you can probably guess which one is the winner.)

Fish:



What you see above isn't fish; it's a wedge of cabbage leaf covered in salsa and a spicy mayonnaise. Hidden below a couple of these was a small but lovely piece of flaky fried fish—could have been cod or hake, I couldn't tell—which almost made up for the extravagance of sauces.

Chorizo:



A fantastically salty, greasy, out-of-a-can chorizo, mixed with cubed potato and finished with a bright fistful of fresh cilantro. A mark of greatness: when I lifted the taco out of its box, there was a puddle of neon-orange achiote oil.

Oh, I think we have a decision.

Winner: Taco de chorizo y papas.

I should also make mention here of the tortillas themselves. While I waited for my order, I got to watch one of the kitchen staff empty a bag of masa flour into a bowl, add water, and start blending the two together by hand. A stack of freshly pressed tortillas sat on the workstation next to her. And they are, by the way, fantastic.

More to come.