Most Popular

  • DISD In the Hole
    Teachers get axed and parents fret as Dallas' school leaders scramble to cover a budget hole
  • Polygamy and Me
    Seven months have passed since the polygamist raid in Eldorado, but for one mainstream Mormon, the effects linger
  • Beer Is Good
    Texas law stifles state's craft brewers
  • How To Piss Off A Member Of Weezer
    Brian Bell isn't so hot on comparisons between past Weezer records and the latest
  • DISD's Confederacy of Jerks
    Extremely pushy parents—Latino, black and Anglo—must rise up to save DISD from itself

National Features >

  • Riverfront Times

    The Pope of Pork

    Old-school hog farming makes a comeback, thanks to some fine swine from Frankenstein.

    By Kristen Hinman

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Lost Season

    Here's how you become one of those people who screams at his kid's coach.

    By Bob Norman

  • SF Weekly

    Border Crossers

    Transgender hookers with rap sheets are successfully fighting deportation--by asking for asylum.

    By Lauren Smiley

  • Houston Press

    Deadly Evidence

    First, Houston's DNA lab became a laughingstock. Then its controversial director was murdered.

    By Randall Patterson

Galindo's

By ALICE LAUSSADE

Published on August 13, 2008 at 10:52am

 

Beer posters with boob girls on them count: 3
Creepy, anthropomorphized jalapeño with gloves on the menu count: 1

Known scientific fact: Mexican food is tasty shit. And it becomes even tastier in the summertime. So, when I saw the sandwich board outside of Galindo's that read, "Beer Blow Out $2-3, Tacos 99 Cents," I parked my car in the tow-away zone in front of the nearby abandoned, graffitied building and walked across the parking lot to take advantage of some blowouts.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by an angry sex or fight scene (couldn't tell which) mid-episode of a telenovela. Then, the hostess sat me at a booth by the window, which, thankfully, was close to the TV. I am now hooked on Victoria.

While I waited for the waitress to take my order, I used my Spanish 101 to translate what was on the TV.

Crispín: Rosa! The trash makes banana 20!

Rosa: Crispín, I don't have time for your broken Spanish. There are more important things to worry about. For example: my cleave.

The waitress took my beer order and pretty immediately brought back the bev and some innocent-looking chips and salsa. I took one bite, and before I knew it was out of my mouth, I'd called their salsa a bitch. I'm not the kind of person who thinks that Pace Picante Extra Hot is extra hot. I'm Texan, and I have to say on the Salsa Heat Scale, this stuff rates an Effin' Hot. It's a little less thick than you'd expect, so it seems like you're about to eat all chip and no taste and then your mouth melts off and you're like, "Sonofabitch, this beer is not helping me feel my lips again." I ate the whole bowl of salsa, but my innards did thank me for denying the very politely offered refill.

Since the salsa was a sign of interesting food opportunities to come, instead of having the same old Cheese Enchilada With Meat Sauce and a Taco Special, I opted for the tortas gigantes (pastor) and french fries for $5.95. And when they say "gigantes," they mean gigantes. This sucker is as big as your butt. Thankfully, though, it tastes like delicious and not like butt. The bread was toasted really nicely, the pastor was a tastefest (not too greasy, either), and they finished it off with a kick-in-the-palate avocado salsa. The whole thing easily beats any American cold-cut sandwich in town.



Dallas Observer Insiders

  • Local food, music and news blasts
  • Free Stuff
Backpage.com