Some years ago, I became a big Taco Casa fan—even though the fast-food eatery was around 250 miles away and only served to me once, maybe twice, a year.
You see, of all the fast-food taco huts, enchilada spots, and burrito outlets in the lower part of the country, Fort Worth’s Taco Casa has primarily supplied gringo-fied Tex-Mex eats to most of Texas since 1972, complete with a stylized logo of a mustachioed bandito that meant we were about to have a south-of-the-border treat.
Usually eaten on summer trips to the Rio Grande Valley in the 80s, the budget-conscious menu offered good food at a good price, meaning my family—any family—could afford extra refried beans if they wanted.
Driving down the interstate, their yellow-and-orange logo signaled us to stop and take a breather and a fifteen-minute break in their parking lot, usually with the cost-effective soft tacos that kept us company to our destination.
And they still do.
Sure, it was fast-food tacos and burritos, but they were—and are—great fast-food tacos. It felt like a Tex-Mex outlet that only Texas kids would know or like, akin to a less-stuffy Pancho's, if you can imagine such a cheesy thing.
Sadly, I moved to Oklahoma in the 90s and, well, that meant Taco Casa was off the table for many, many years. Sure, I heard rumblings about a new franchise around the border and, after a few years, they were slowly popping up in the Sooner State.
But, sadly, none near me. So I would usually get some Taco Bell or Bueno, and, in a pinch, Mayo, and, tearfully, be done with it. I'll just wait 'til the next time I am in the Lone Star State, I'd lament to myself.
One day though, while reading the local paper, I realized something truly magical had happened over the past few months: construction had begun on few new Taco Casas, and, amazingly, one of these new prospects was near my old stomping grounds of NW 50th & May Ave.
“Chingada madre!” I cried to no one in particular.
As I was talking wistfully about it to anyone who would listen, Patrick confessed that he, too, had unrealized Taco Casa dreams from his taco-based thirty-somethings, usually on his trips to Texas, where a hearty meal included two of the Casa’s “Super Burrito”—one for then, one for later.
Finding common ground in these Texas-bred burrito-works, we made plans to meet up and give this new location at 5225 N. May Ave. a try. To be sure, I counted the days until that strange red sauce would completely drown my loaded burrito into saucy oblivion.
Around that time, the government shutdown happened. While many people didn’t know how they were going to feed their kids, Taco Casa stepped up and immediately began offering a free life-sustaining taco or burrito to kids whose parents are on food stamps—no purchase necessary.
To me, that was truly impressive... the Oklahoma Standard was being served up by a Texas taco chain! Who’d’a thunk it?
So, last week, my wife and I met up with Patrick, and though it was a well-to-do modern storefront with all the features an up-to-date store should have, as soon as I walked through the doors, that familiar smell of warm flour tortillas and simmering meat clung to the air.
While I wouldn’t say that it smelled like home, it did smell like a really impressive Airbnb—I want that as an air freshener!
My wife and Patrick knew what they wanted, based around memories of orders long past... Super Tacos, Super Burritos, and Super Tostadas from Taco Casa’s “Super” lines of food, emphasizing the grand scale of the eats.
I hail them and their stellar work! For those about to chow down, I salute you!
My plan, though, was to try all the things I had always wanted to but, sadly, never did, starting with the Super Nachos. A large pile of tortilla chips are smothered in cheddar cheese sauce, refried beans, ground beef, sour cream, tomatoes and, to top it off, jalapeños.
Now this was a mighty start to my Tex-Mex food adventure! The compact tortilla chips perfectly held globules of meat, beans, and the occasional errant jalapeño, perfectly compounded in my swollen belly. It made finishing the dish a real job but, hey, someone’s got to do it!
Wanting to take a breather on the big selections, I got the almost-famous Chili Burger. A fresh steamed bun is loaded with their original red sauce, a scoop of ground beef, and topped with shredded lettuce, making a perfect sandwich.
I really found no fault with the Chili Burger. Sure, it’s as basic as a sandwich could be, but it really works, starting with the dastardly chili. Sliding off the bun onto the wrapper, I tasted the actual spices in the chili, mild but potent on the soft steamed bun. I could have another one!
Finally, I had to try the one item I always craved but never had the time to covet, the Chilada. A steamed tortilla is filled with ground beef and refried beans and smothered in their mild red sauce and topped with cheddar cheese and black olives—which I wasn’t aware of.
While I had hoped to end my trip on what I thought would be the high-note of the menu, it turned out to be anything but! Starting with the highly acidic sauce, the Chilada got worse from there with each bite. From the salty olives to the blah beans, I pushed it off my tray and into the trash can.
Feeling kind of empty with the loss of my lunch, I took one of Patrick’s extra combo burritos and—phew!—suddenly, all was right with the world!
After years of longing for this regional chain to pop up in my neighborhood, I was glad it was here, now, and, finally, I can head right down the street and get a crunchy taco, a bowl of frijoles, and their cinnamon and sugar Casa Delights, anytime I want…just no olives, please.
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
