El Super Taco, 2 June 2018

Sometimes you find yourself in the suburbs. One moment you’re trying to get your Rubik’s Cube time down - I went from… let’s see, that’s seven times… and then add… OK, four hundred fifty minutes down to five minutes in two days. Anyway, you’re working on your Rubik’s Cube time and then you look up and, hot rats, you’re in Burnsville. It’s distressing because all you have is a Rubik’s Cube, you’re ill-prepared for when the suburbanites come out after sundown. At some point a retired cop dad is going to come out of the shadows to tell you how much the new Foo Fighters record rocks and how he misses Velvet Revolver.
But, while you’re here, you may as well grab something to eat, so why not try El Super Taco, an honest mom & pop joint where the staff wear t-shirts boasting that they have the best tacos in the Twin Cities?
Me? I’m a Marissa’s man, myself. I eye all comers dubiously.
Given that I hadn’t eaten all day, I had the room to house the chicken tinga burrito and a pair lengua tacos. GF got the gordita platter. (She would later mention that there was just too much lettuce on that.)
The lengua tacos were fine, they were what I expected. The pastel green salsa contributed the majority of the flavor and the radishes provided crunch. They were OK. I guess I’d rank them high. If we’re going to use a -
Do we use a three star model a la Michelin, a four star model a la Ebert, or a five star model like everybody else? I guess if it were Michelin, I’d give it two stars; if it were Ebert, I’d give three and a half, if it were a five star model, I’d give it three. The tacos are worth a detour but they’re not the main attraction. Maybe if I got the tinga tacos, it would be higher.
The tinga burrito, though, is what really won me over.
Like any mom & pop taqueria, guac is gratis. It’s just there. You want it? Shit, take it. No additional charge.
Aside from that, there’s Mexican rice, sour cream, lettuce, cheese, and pinto beans.
But the real sympathetic anti-hero of this of this behind-the-scenes year-in-the-life good-girls-of-figure-skating-gone-bad documentary is the chicken tinga. Smokey is too easy a descriptor. There is up-front earth and smoke, spicy cumin and perhaps cocoa (I could be wrong but there was a “round” note in there that could have passed for cocoa - not chocolate, this had a bitter semi-sweetness with a subtle “char” hue), and hints of tang and sweetness.
You know how when you eat a burrito there’s a “meat side” and a “rice and veg” side to it? The meat side was the one I enjoyed visiting the most. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the other side just as much; the other side was a solid support player for the chicken tinga. Think of that one band your dad liked that you kind of like, too, but you’ll never admit to it because your dad likes them. The chicken tinga is the front man and the lead guitarist whose names you always remember while the other stuff is the bassist, drummer, and sometimes keyboardist are the guys who, while you know were there, you can’t remember the names of; their contributions are invaluable but you’ll be damned if you can remember what their names are.
Or even back up the tape to a few years ago to my beloved Tigers going to the World Series. Cabrera was there, so was Jackson, Verlander, Scherzer, but I’ll be damned if I can remember that lineup and I ate, breathed, and bathed in the Tigers that season.
And why didn’t the Tigers lock Scherzer into a contract? Why did they let him stay free agent? Jesus. Between him, Verlander, and Smiley, they had the best bullpen in not just the AL Central but the whole of MLB.
OK, so I guess I remember Smiley, but just barely.
Anyway, if you’re in the mood for a burrito and you don’t live in Burnsville, or even just chicken tinga and you don’t live in Burnsville, and you have gasoline in the tank that you’ve just been waiting to burn, I’ll recommend El Super Taco. Burnsville is a bit of a hike, so I wouldn’t say go all the way out there if you have to bike (you wouldn’t be able to bike back, for starters, this was a big burrito). If you happen to live in Burnsville and you haven’t been there yet, then you need to get your whole life right and go there today or tomorrow. Sometime this week. Don’t go to Chipotle, don’t compare this place to Chipotle, don’t even think of Chipotle. I know it’s hard to not do that, you’re in Burnsville. But you now have an excellent resource for real and independently run Mexican food in your town and you should take advantage of that.
Also, weekends only, they have pozole and menudo. While I didn’t get these, the guys ahead of us in line did and these were fairly massive bowls.
I’ll say, however, that I think they could use a wider selection of Jarritos. I found one of the three last Lime ones they had, otherwise it’s Fruit Punch and Pineapple which aren’t the best Jarritos flavors, at least for me and my German-Irish palette.
Put your Rubik’s Cube down and go give them your money.