Photo via Taqueria El Cabrito - taqueriaelcabrito.shop
Taqueria El Cabrito
Taqueria El Cabrito
With its bright yellow-orange walls, multicolored paper decorations hanging from lines throughout its dining space, and Univision programming beaming from its large-screen TV's, Taqueria El Cabrito (1100 S. 11th St.; 385-9000) exemplifies the festive ambience many diners desire from a Mexican restaurant. Atmosphere, however, isn't the only thing that makes the place a gem of a joint situated not far from the more bustling environs of W. National Avenue.
If its signage doesn't provide enough of a clue, cabrito translates from Spanish to “baby goat.” Not every Mexican restaurant in town serves goat, and El Cabrito serves plenty more meat options. But it's El Cabrito's goat preparations that first attracted me, and they continue to entice me to return.
One especially wondrous dish El Cabrito derives from goat is especially satisfying. Quesabirria may serve as an analogue to an au jus sandwich. El Cabrito's version consists of three small fried tacos filled with pulled goat and cheese with heaps of fresh, chopped cilantro and red onions for diners to garnish as they see fit.
The au jus parallel comes in with the tall Styrofoam tumbler full of slightly spicy goat consommé. There's more of the savory liquid to pour some on the plate, letting the tacos swim in the stock, dipping the meaty, cheesy tortillas into the drink is likely the better option (and likelier preferred by El Cabrito's busing staff). Whatever way one goes about it, consuming an order of quesabirria is bound to make something of a mess. But what a gloriously flavorful one.
It should be stressed that the goat in El Cabrito's quesabirria is both tender and boneless. Such is the case for the few other goat dishes on its menu apart from the birria soup. Whether African, East Indian, Jamaican or other Mexican places in the city, the goat served probably isn't deboned. Though it's not a humongous deal to remove the bones, it's a blessing to not have to contend with that bit of work when dining on one of the world's favorite meats.
El Cabrito also excels at cactus. Newcomers shouldn't let the plant's prickly exterior in its uncooked state be a deterrent to some unique eating. The nopales a la plancha (cactus served on a wooden plank) offers the novel element of grilled produce with a pulpy texture and somewhat citrus flavor. It could just convert a committed omnivore to at least an occasional meatless meal.
For dessert, flan is a typical Mexican option, El Cabrito's variation on the caramelly egg custard is highlighted by a topping of several small raisins. It may seem an insignificant addition, but those bits of difference in flavor and texture make the last course of an El Cabrito repast that much more memorable.
There is no shortage of other items with other meats (and, for vegans and vegetarians, options like an avocado torta). El Cabrito’s festive ambience is apt to sway first-time visitors to want to make it a regular haunt for Mexican fare out of the ordinary.
