Taqueria Chihuahua ~ 1909 Lincoln Blvd. ~ Santa Monica, CA 90404
Just when we figgered over-consumption was on the way out for our plundered red, white, and deep blue souls, heeeerrrre's asada fries! Now available at Taqueria Chihuahua to make North Americans fatter, sicker, and $7 poorer.
Simply speaking the words "asada" and "fries" together while ordering this massive orgy of Mexi-melted spuds adds 3 pounds to your assuredly already large ass. Still, seeing how everyone's got their pantalooms in a twist during the Taco Tourney on the merits of Kogi's and Tito's and blah blah boom boom, your friendly neighborhood TACO website braved the inevitable seaside jeers to come this summer swimsuit season to indulge ourselves two of our favorite foods fused together.
I'm not a giant Chihuahua fan to date. I once had a chicken burrito there that was edible and haven't yet tried the tacos, but when the proverbial dude-behind-the-counter started speaking off-the-menu specials, this plate pricked up my ears so to speak. I instantly conjured some sort of chili-soaked splatter, maybe just a subconcious response to the Tommy's staring at us through the store window. I predicted the meal would look nearly worse than it tasted. What kind of horrible spawn could this dish dubbed after such artery-blocking super stars be? Would the fries come injected with asada paste or would the asada be coated with a thin layer of fry crust? Clearly, I lack imagination, but the monstrosity I imagined was gross indeed.
What appeared was a pretty kickass, though photographically resistant, variation on nachos with a tangle of medium thick fries stuck together with melted cheddar. Up top, carne asada was making it rain in pint-sized cuts with a hearty sprinkle of guacamole, cream, and pico de gallo. I like to imagine Jeff Spicoli was brought into the kitchen in a white lab coat, hired to confer with Chihuahua's top chefs towards the goal of creating a meal only the world's most stoned individual would crave. You dropped your asada in my fries, bro! You dropped your...aw, forgit it!
Anyfuckenwhoo...this not so messy mess was guiltily the best thing I could wolf down after working back-to-back-to-back-to-back jobs with little food intake throughout the weekend. The fries were downy, yet saturated with water from the tomatoes or coagulated with cheese, making them resemble thinner fries in all their concentrated greasiness. A little tang of tomato or guacamole here or there confirmed my conversion to the fries-as-nachos way. Fries go great with practically anything, but I can't believe I'd never thought of this much.
The asada shrouding the scene is delicious, well-spiced, and chewy, but not tough. A salty base mingles with flavors of pepper, cumin, and garlic and the steak's grilled juices. The mouthwatering meat is awesome on its own or when paling around with its old homies guacamole and pico de gallo. The fries and asada together make for jumbled, indulgent thrills that sometimes melt in the mouth and sometimes puzzle it. When able to spear all ingredients at once, the whole comes into focus a bit, and while certainly not heading to the tables at nearby fancy-pants eatery Capo anytime soon, it makes for some great junk food just for pigging out. Does it all work? Yeah, well, kind of, sort of. Did we eat the whole thing? Oh yeah!
We probably can't legally guarantee that asada fries are a better investment for your seven hard earned dollars than buying index funds or handing it to some scheisty schiestball frat man. But times are hard in this country, with little light shining at the end of our tunnelvision. You never know when learning to eat whatever random junk lying around might come in handy. And like many good accidents in eating, may it only be as good as this tasty food Frankentstein.