Many things to write about so I must be brief with my words.
A zeugma is a linguistic trick where you join two mismatched things together - like ‘holding the door and a grudge.’
El Primo Taqueria is built entirely on this tension. It serves authentic carnitas and mid-century nostalgia with equal conviction.
To honor that friction, I’ve... More
Many things to write about so I must be brief with my words.
A zeugma is a linguistic trick where you join two mismatched things together - like ‘holding the door and a grudge.’
El Primo Taqueria is built entirely on this tension. It serves authentic carnitas and mid-century nostalgia with equal conviction.
To honor that friction, I’ve gone for a strictly old-school flat lay style - a visual echo of a place that exists somewhere between a Mexico City street corner and a 1980s diner.
The room radiates a specific cinematic grit. I half-expected to find Dominic Toretto at the counter, muttering about ‘family’ over a lime Jarritos. I know it is a culturally incoherent fantasy – he is a Cuban-Italian paradox in a drag-racing franchise - but in this specific lighting, it feels entirely appropriate, and I’m sticking with it.
The music transition was wild – starting with Celia’s Oye Como Va, and moving through to Return of the Tres, by Delinquent Habits and Si Senor by Control Machete. You basically travel from a 1960s dance hall to a 1990s East LA house party in the span of 3 songs. Love it.
Shout out to Valeria, our taco consultant, who showed elite emotional intelligence - subtly moving to block an aggresive sun beam to my face, while walking us through the menu. She also suggested the salsa macha (Not Matcha, as the Serb quickly found out) for the shiitake tostadas and validated our two-dessert strategy without a trace of judgment. It is a rare luxury to be in the hands of genuine hospitality.
As for the food, Chef Jon Collin (LPM, Zuma) brings the ruthless discipline of fine dining to the chaotic joy of street food. Success is rarely an accident - this is decades of technique & hard work distilled into a single corn tortilla.
We worked through the pastor, the beef cheeks, and the shiitake truffle tostada. Did I mention the desserts. Plural. The execution was “correct” - a technical term for absolutely without fault. Delicious & delightful.
It managed a rare paradox: my mouth danced with flavour, yet my soul felt grounded by a deep, ancestral comfort.
A taqueria with serious intent & zero pretense. The kind of place that upgrades your week. Less
