I was genuinely surprised to discover one of the best New Mexico-style tacos in L.A I’ve ever tasted at Dunsmoor in Glassell Park.
Even more surprising is that this restaurant, which faced community backlash when it first opened after being accused of contributing to gentrification in an otherwise suburban part of northeast Los Angeles, serves a dish so remarkable that it lives in my taco cravings months after eating it: “Aunt Emmy’s Pork & Green Chili Stew,” served with handmade flour tortillas, made with butter, and toasted to order.
Walking into Dunsmoor on Eagle Rock Boulevard, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The space has a warm, rustic charm, featuring wooden tables and soft lighting, located next to a brewery known for its unique beers made with wild herbs.
I was aware of the controversy surrounding its opening in June 2022. Local residents, fearing gentrification, protested the restaurant’s arrival, worried it would transform Glassell Park into another Highland Park. I understand their fears—gentrification can erode a neighborhood’s character and push out those who’ve called it home for generations. Yet, I came for the food after hearing that one of their investors offered legal services to the owner of Taquería Frontera so he can protect himself as soon as the ICE raids started. That kind of real support and allyship is invaluable.
And what I found was extraordinary. A bowl filled to the brim with bubbling, shredded Pead’s and Barnett pork stewed in Hatch green chile that actually packs a punch.
Chef Brian Dunsmoor, 42, draws from his summers in Fowler, Colorado, a ranching town he describes as having “more cows than humans.” His family roasted Hatch chiles together, a tradition rooted in his mother’s large family of 11 siblings.
“I grew up eating that my entire life,” Brian shared. “My aunt, Emmy Nesselhuf, is somewhat of a local legend for it.”
At Dunsmoor, they use pork shoulder, lightly browned if it’s summer, or deeply caramelized in winter. The green chile sauce, inspired by Pueblo, Colorado’s “slopper”—a burger smothered in green chile stew—varies from a lighter broth to a thicker, cornstarch-enhanced version. It’s topped with two-year-aged Hooks cheddar and in some bites, feels like an inside-out chile relleno, especially when scooped up with a flour tortilla made from a recipe he developed with his sous chef, Manuel Mendoza, cooked to order with butter in just 30 seconds. Brian calls it his favorite menu item.
“Seeing this recipe, my family’s recipe, ordered by almost everyone is a pinnacle moment for me as a chef,” he said, and his passion is evident.
One bite, and I didn’t want to admit it, but I was captivated. It reminded me of road tripping through New Mexico and eating as many green chiles as I could from Albuquerque to Taos. The pork melts in your mouth and the green chile sauce offers a smoky heat that I can see some people not being able to eat, but that’s exactly why I love it. The flour tortilla is soft and buttery and reminds more of a Sonoran-style than a puffier Juárez-style.
It’s a taste of Colorado ranch life, in one of the most quickly gentrifying neighborhoods of Los Angeles. I still have a lot of complex and bittersweet feelings driving through northeast Los Angeles, where I lived for ten years until my landlord did everything possible to get us to leave out of our rent-controlled apartment. I don’t miss living here and don’t think I can ever move back, but I can still recognize that this taco is incredible, especially when paired with a nice light red from Envinate from the Canary Islands. Two things can exist at once.
Dunsmoor tells L.A. TACO that he prefers drinking it with a Coor’s Light, though.
What makes this taco even more remarkable is its existence in a restaurant that some wanted to shut down before it opened. Protestors argued that Dunsmoor’s high-end dining—which can easily go more than a hundred per person or double that if having some drinks—would attract wealthier newcomers, raise rents, and displace lower-income residents and people of color.
Glassell Park still retains its working-class roots, with auto shops and small taquerías up and down the neighborhood defining its character.
Three years later, the restaurant endures, having served over 100 covers on its opening night despite the protests. Gentrification is a complex issue, often driven more by developers and landlords than individual businesses. Still, the tension is real, and I felt it as I savored my meal. The green chile stew currently costs $27 and easily feeds two, especially when accompanied by a side of mashed potatoes.
Dunsmoor’s taco is a testament to the power of food to tell a story, even in the face of controversy. It’s a dish that bridges a chef’s heritage with a neighborhood’s evolving identity. Despite the menu changing through the seasons, it's also one of the dishes that has remained since the restaurant opened in 2022. I left grateful for the experience, hoping Glassell Park can hold onto its roots while making space for moments like this.
It’s a variety of a taco that is hard to find in L.A.: An actual Southwest-style taco that deserves some respect, if not for the taste of the taco itself that represents New Mexico, then for all the people who make up that state, including the 23 federally recognized tribes that have taken care of that land—and planted green chiles—for thousands of years.
If you go to Dunsmoor, try the taco, pair it with a Canary Islands wine or a beer, and take a moment to appreciate the complexity—of both the dish and the neighborhood.
