It’s a bird, it’s a plane…no, it’s Super Taco, here to save Melbourne from Mexican food mediocrity.
Not that we need saving, the city has been routinely adding delicious new taquerias to the tortilla fold over the last 12 months including Taqueria Sin Nombre, a permanent bricks and mortar location for Dingo Ate My Taco, Santito and Chabela.
But what makes Super Taco, run by Georgie Larkins and her husband, so special is its low-fi lovability.
No big name chefs, expensive fit out, mega marketing campaigns or hours-long queues fuelling the hype.
The fandom is genuine, which I believe has a lot to do with Super Taco’s authenticity and generosity.
Larkins, who has worked in the wings of the restaurant industry but hasn’t taken centre stage with her own venue, opened the hole-in-the-wall in Crossley St back in July. It’s right near Pellegrini’s and opposite Andrew McConnell’s new joint.
The cuisine is not regionally specific and the menu is short.
Four tacos fill the list, which you can pimp out at the salsa station as many times as you like. Corn chips with guac, fries and drinks round out the menu.
Head chef Jose Angel Delgado Juarez and his crew make everything from scratch.
That includes the laborious task of rolling and pressing white corn masa tortillas six hours ahead of service daily.
This isn’t new in Melbourne but makes a huge difference in the flavour stakes.
You can order cauliflower ($8), fried flathead ($9), skirt steak ($10) and the traditional al pastor ($8) served via trompo, a giant vertical spit capped with a whole pineapple which soaks into the meat with every turn.
This is by far the standout — charred, humming with a red chilli kick and pops of sweet pineapple.
You don’t need any salsa with this. The flathead was my other favourite, two sizeable fillets lightly battered and shallow fried, with shaved cabbage, radishes and poblano crema (sour cream).
Larkins, who takes your order at the front counter, recommends salsa macha for this (a chilli oil with sesame seeds) which adds texture over much heat.
The skirt steak, cooked medium, has some resistance with chew and char, freshened up with a lively red salsa, and optional red onions and coriander for freshness.
Though it needs guac for lubrication.
The best problem you’ll have at Super Taco is the generosity of the fillings.
It’s almost impossible to wrap your tortilla, or mouth, around the mountain of meat, inside each taco.
Thankfully those tortillas are built for the task, soft and pliable and corny where it counts.
If you’re after crunchy tortillas, only corn chips with guac will scratch your itch.
I’d get a bag of these to munch on with a beer or frozen mezcalita slushie (fresh pulped strawberries sloshing with lime and mescal) while you wait for your order.
On busy days, this can be more than 20 minutes. It also packs out for lunch and more for dinner, but you won’t be queuing for hours on end. There are no guarantees for Friday or Saturday nights.
On this visit Larkins moves the line along quickly, with the turnover of tables and benches also fast. Snaring a table and chair out the front is your best bet, followed by a crate, windowsill or against a wall at last resort.
And if you’ve got dessert on the mind, sadly they’ve had to retire the Carlota; fresh lime and cream soft serve, inspired by the Mexican dessert Carlota de limon, until further notice.
Until then mezcalitas, Modelo beer, or Mexican soft drinks are the go.
Does Melbourne need another taqueria?
The more the merrier I say, especially when Super Taco doesn’t need any bells, whistles or hype to get people in the door.
There’s cooking with intent, generosity and kindness at its core — and that’s pretty super to me.