Linda Falkenstein
Breakfast tacos: perfectly balanced flavors.
After my monthly stint of delivering copies of Isthmus on the campus route — no, it’s not an episode of Undercover Boss; we staffers all take a route — I find myself wanting to stop somewhere for breakfast. This is a little weird since I’m not a breakfast-out kind of person. But in this instance I am already out and by the time I finish hauling papers, breakfast seems no longer an indulgence, but a necessity. Last month I pulled up in front of Taco Local on Williamson Street, more than ready for breakfast tacos.
The breakfast menu was larger than I would have imagined for a small cafe — there’s not only tacos but chilaquiles, a breakfast burrito, a breakfast torta and chorizo hash served with eggs. Uncharacteristically I decided not to second-guess myself. I stuck with my original intention to order breakfast tacos. And also uncharacteristically, I’m going to say something I don’t write about food that often: They were perfect.
The plating of three small tacos was lovely. The eggs — “folded” — were soft and creamy and easier to eat atop the tortilla than scrambled. Generally, folded eggs are supposed to come off the griddle creamier than even an omelet, and these were — augmented by the crema that danced with a pico de gallo atop it all. The blue corn tortillas were soft and fresh. The play of earthy cornmeal, tart salsa, and mellow buttery egg struck every note just right. It didn’t need the bacon or chorizo you can add for $2, although I’m sure they wouldn’t hurt.
Every breakfast entree is served with esquites, a cold Mexican street corn salad in which the sweet corn is enveloped in a sauce of mayonnaise, cotija cheese, lime and cilantro, maybe with a dusting of chili powder. This esquites, topped prettily with pickled red onions, is more sweet than spicy, leaning on the tang of the mayo and the cheese coupled with the zip of cilantro and lime. Whichever early cook first came up with the magic combo of lime and cilantro must have won some kind of proto-James Beard award.
Everything is served on rustic pottery plates from Mark Skudlarek’s Cambridge Wood-Fired Pottery; the coffee, from Madison’s Rusty Dog, arrives in one of Skudlarek’s mugs. My Mexican mocha — espresso with cocoa, cinnamon and plenty of spice — was the spiciest item I had. I would probably order this on its own next time rather than trying to combine it with food.
Picking what else to try is sort of academic — the ingredients are mostly the same, just combined in different ways. The chilaquiles feature eggs done any way you like; the hash comes with eggs over easy. That dish, too, with housemade chorizo, potatoes, an avocado salsa, and white queso sauce, is pretty much irreproachable. And the breakfast menu is served until noon.
The rest of the day, the menu sticks with tacos, with a choice of fillings: al pastor, mango-braised pork, steak, barbecued brisket, Baja shrimp, blackened fish, lime chicken, or jerked sweet potato and zucchini. Sadly, you can’t mix and match: Orders are three of the same taco, so to create your own smorgasbord you’ll have to trade tacos with your dining partners. Salsa combos vary: there’s housemade mango and pineapple pico de gallo, among others. And several come drizzled with that delectable crema. I believe anything works better with some crema on top, so I gravitated to the steak (with classic onion, cilantro and lime, with the crema) and the fish (with the mango salsa and chipotle crema). Even the more sedate sweet potato and zucchini thrives with a mango pico de gallo and house crema topping. The blackened fish could use more spicing to truly deserve the “blackened” label, and I would love to see a more interesting fish than cod here.
Sides are a mellow pozole, well worth ordering, and a caesar salad if you’re looking for a bit of crunch.
Cocktails skew Mexican/Latin, with margaritas, a mezcal paloma, mojitos, sangria, mimosas, Cuba libres, bloody marys and micheladas. I loved the fruity red sangria, but it felt odd drinking it out of a pottery vessel, and I wished there was more sangria (too much ice). There are also a few beers and cider and wines by the glass, which go well with the happy hour menu (served daily from 2-6 p.m.) — the specials are mostly food, not drink (ceviche and chips, as well as a quesadilla, tostadas, a small plate of two tacos, and chips and guac). But the space, with a handful of tables and a small counter area, is appealing for a happy hour get-together where you actually want to talk, serene enough mid-afternoon for a heart-to-heart with a friend.
Taco Local is not a taqueria with big combo plates with sides of rice and refried beans. There’s no rice or beans, in fact. The entree servings of three tacos with the esquites and a small salad feel healthier than that kind of traditional platter, but someone with a big appetite might want more food — and things can get spendy once you start adding sides and drinks. My bottom line, though, is that Taco Local is worth it. And if you’re reading this on the morning the January Isthmus is out, you’ll know where to find me.
Taco Local
811 Williamson St.
608-405-5101; tacolocal.com
11 a.m.-9 p.m. Mon., 8 a.m.-9 p.m. Tues.-Sun.
$6-$15
