Ξ February 16th, 2009 | → | ∇ Beyond Northeast, Food |
Wow was I wrong. Consider this my official retraction of any positive adjectives used in describing the cemitas at Eibis restaurant. (In reviewing that post however, it looks like those modifiers were “delivers” and “filling”). On a recent drive down to East LA, the YorkBlvd model and I were looking for a bit of a preview of our upcoming trip to Puebla, Mexico. Moles la Tia had already been crossed off the list, so we decided to stop at a the Cemitas Tepeaca truck that we had often seen on our way to El Mercadito. The beautiful Poblano specialty demoted Eibis’ dish to “Cemita-ish”. Different than a torta, with a fluffier egged roll with seasame seeds, Tepeaca’s cemitas were stuffed with avocado, onion, salsa (chipotle or jalapeño), onions, and meat (she had the milanesa de res and I had the barbacoa), and well worth the drive. For me, the most unique flavor in the sandwich was the pungent fresh papalo that adds an almost sweet flavor to the dish. (Your little known fact of the day is that papalo derives its name from the Nahuatl word for butterfly.) As if this isn’t enough reason to brave the local news station’s grave warnings to “avoid the road unless travel is absolutely necessary”, you can wash your cemita down with a beer and Cielito Lindo on the top floor of El Mercadito. And before I’m accused of requesting the ubiquitous gabacho song, the YorkBlvd model is partial to the verse: “Ese lunar que tienes, Cielito lindo, junto a la boca, No se lo des a nadie, Cielito lindo, que a mi me toca”. Women and their birthmarks…
To find the truck, just look for the neon “Cemitas Poblanas” sign and the mural that oddly juxtaposes the Mexican Revolution, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, King Kong, and Nazis. I’m serious.
Cemitas Tepeaca Indiana St. & Cesar Chavez
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