By Kyle Petrozza
Last month during his performance of the inaugural New Orleans’ Speaker Series, culinary bad boy Anthony Bourdain highlighted the proliferation of food trucks as a growing trend in eating out. Around the country, lunch trucks that were once scoffed at as the lowest form on the dining hierarchy are now revered by loyal followers who track their favorite munchie mobiles on Twitter.
Fans of Taqueria D.F., though, need not worry about where to find their favorite tacos and tortas for lunch. D.F., which stands for “Districto Federal” a.k.a. Mexico City, has found a permanent home on South Claiborne Avenue across from the New Orleans Water Treatment Facility. Powered via a yellow extension cord running from the laundromat next door, D.F. is usually best marked by a gathering of blue collar workers dining on paper plates while sitting along a concrete parking lot wall. But because the desire for a cheap and filling lunch crosses social and economic borders, construction workers with concrete dust on their boots often find themselves waiting in line with the jacket and tie squadron from the CBD.
Steam bins of various meats await on the opposite side of the ordering window, which allows the diner a cursory inspection of the “menu.” Meanwhile, the tabletop griddle sizzles with beef awaiting the next order. Tacos, a bargain at $1.50, come double wrapped in corn tortillas and simply dressed with diced onions, chopped cilantro, and wedges of lime for squeezing. The chewy beef tongue may be your first foray into offal, but it won’t be your last. And if you enjoy the tongue, try the tripe. The griddle gives it an undeniably chewy, but tender crust while the salsa verde provides a sharp contrast to the earthy tripe. For the pork lovers, soft bits of chicharron and slices of al pastor are also available.
The tortas place your choice of meat inside an avocado-and-cheese-smeared soft roll with lettuce and tomato. The tender strands of barbacoa have much in common with the beloved roast beef poboy, but an altogether different flavor. Cumin and a touch of spice rule this slow-braised meat. Xenophobes fear taco trucks, but if hating fresh, authentic food served quickly and cheaply is wrong, we don’t want to be right. Corner of Eagle Street and S. Claiborne Avenue; Open daily from 10 a.m. until.
