Last week, I returned from a trip to Mexico. My wife and I traveled with friends to Puerto Vallarta to celebrate a friend's 40th birthday. Puerto Vallarta sits in the state of Jalisco, along the Pacific coast in Banderas Bay.
We dined all over the city — including a tasting menu at Tintoque, where Chef Joel Ornelas blends Spanish, Portuguese, and Mexican cuisines in stunning small plates. Yes, there were crickets. Yes, ant larvae too — escamoles.
But it was the street tacos that stole my heart.
Saturday night, along Lazaro Cardenas Street, dozens of taco stands lined the road. Each one packed shoulder-to-shoulder, boasting vertical rotisseries where cooks skillfully shaved pork al pastor from spinning spits, folding it into toasted tortillas pulled straight from the plancha. I was transfixed — eager to trade my pesos for the magic of cocina de la calle Taqueria La Hormiga.
Tacos al pastor are cultural fusion at its finest — born from Lebanese immigrants who brought the vertical spit used for lamb shawarma in the late 19th century. In Mexico, lamb became pork, heavily seasoned and slow-roasted to perfection.
Back home, I couldn’t shake the craving. A few texts later, I found myself at El Fogon #2, at 25th and Arkansas in Wichita. Adrianna Flores, originally from Jalisco, greeted me. Behind her, the spit turned, fire kissed the meat, and the tacos brought me right back.
To me, tacos al pastor are a ritual — part performance, part flavor symphony. And like the rotisserie itself, the world keeps turning, giving us another day — another taco.
