Apparently I was a Mexican shepherd in my past life. I know this because of my obsession with tacos, tortas and burritos al pastor (literally, “of the sheepherder”)—and my tendency to wake up sweating in the middle of the night yelling, “Donde estan las borregas?”
You see, shepherds, given their lot, were long on barbecue time. As a result, they would season thin cuts of pork with salts, chiles and then stack slice after slice on a spit by the fire, usually topping the stack with a few slices of pineapple, the juices of which would slowly drip through the meat. The shepherds could then slow cook it rotisserie style on that spit for hours and hours, slicing off the edges of the huge column of meat when their appetites called for it.
Whole taquerias in Mexico City are dedicated to the taco al pastor, and with good reason—done well, al pastor is simply addictive. The mouthwatering power of the al pastor at Mi Tierra Market means there is yet another reason to visit the airplane hangar-like sunflower-yellow structure on the corner of Broadway and Fremont in Seaside. There are still bizarre and brightly colored piñatas, fuzzy Oakland Raider piggy banks, aisles of traditional dried peppers and whole tubs of south-of-the-border stuff like beautiful, white Oaxaca cheese. But thanks to the construction of a clean, cute little tile-counter in the back corner, next to the beer and produce, there is now an decidedly authentic taqueria with taqueria prices. Español rules the menu, though English is listed parenthetically. In a departure from the quick and dirty taqueria of old, debit and credit cards are accepted.
Perfect traditional tacos—meat diced on two small corn tortillas with all the requisite chopped white onion, fresh cilantro and a splash of homemade salsa—go for $1.25 a pop. Like the tacos, burritos and tortas are available every day. Same goes for platillos al gusto (traditional plates with meat of choice, rice and salad, $5.99), plates of barbacoa de res (barbecued beef) and birría de chivo (stewed goat, $5.49). Menudo, that special-occasion spicy soup made with tripe and served with cilantro, chopped onions and chile flakes, is available on weekends for $4.99.
On my first visit, I loaded up on four different types of tacos from the nine choices available—which unlike a lot of Mexican taco menus, doesn’t include cabeza (brain), but does offer tongue
and tripe—and grabbed some quesadillas and a custom veggie burrito for a meat-free friend.
The chicken and carnitas tacos were tasty, the carne asada excellent, but the red-juice-dripping al pastor tacos, despite the fact that I ordered twice as many, disappeared first. Everybody loved the tiny chunks of well-roasted but still tender pork. The standard quesadillas ($1.99 each for a half plate-sized fold of flour tortilla and cheese) and their mild white cheese were straightforward but excellent; my hombre Jack, meanwhile, reported that the off-menu veggie burrito was OK. Best of all, we had enough for eight people for just over $30.
On my second visit I was again in and out in less than 10 minutes—though it felt like less with all the goofy piñatas and Mexican sodas to peruse. (There is also space to eat at a counter along the front window of the store.) I left with an iced horchata, a “super” chicken quesadilla ($3.50), three carne asada tacos and, yes, nine al pastor tacos. The horchata ($1.25/medium; $2.50/large) was just right, with a smooth blend of rice milk, a sly suggestion of cinnamon and a touch of rice kernel texture (other aguas frescas like melon are also available). Such as super quesadilla was exactly that—super, stuffed with avocado, sour cream, lettuce, torn chicken, cheese, tomatoes and cilantro.
The unanimous highlight of the meal, however, were the al pastor tacos. One friend of mine experienced the sheepherder sensation for the first time—and promptly ate five tacos.
Visits three and four served as torta and burrito tests, respectively. The tortas ($3.99) were built on the traditional Mexican roll, with lettuce, tomato, avocado and jalapeños, but came off dry and didn’t receive the real-deal greasy grill treatment a good torta deserves. The burritos, meanwhile, come in both regular ($3.99) and super ($4.50) versions. The super burrito I tried weighed in at over 20 ounces—and was delicious and saucy enough to preclude any need for the dark maroon house salsa. Whether you were a psychic in a past life or not, you can probably guess what kind of burrito I ordered.
MI TIERRA
1000 Broadway Ave., Seaside • 8am-8pm daily. • 394-8113 (ordering by phone currently unavailable).
