Que Pasa Con La Rasa
I’m totally down with Mexicans. I always have been, even before it was a hot button issue. My best friend in third grade was Gustavo Gonzales. And my best friend in fourth grade was Felipe Gonzales (no relation).
When I worked at Murray’s Cheese Shop, I didn’t get along with every other cheesemonger, but I made fast friends with all of the Mexicans. I’d try to speak with them as much as possible to pick up the slang. And I talked so much baseball with them in my broken Spanish that they stopped calling me “Mr. David” and bestowed the honorary nickname of “Mr. David Ortiz” upon me.
I think because I was openly friendly with the Mexicans, I was treated like one of them by the management, and I eventually left because I felt I wasn’t respected there. But before I went, I tried to organize a union as we stood around the lockers nightly.
I thought my efforts were going unappreciated (probably because they couldn’t understand my Spanish) until one day while I was stocking a cracker shelf. Cristo, one of my closest friends at Murray’s, saddled up next to me and pretended to front some items so as not to draw the ire of the watchful and vengeful manager. Cristo, who is from Puebla, shot me a sideways glance and whispered, “Hijos del maize (children of the corn). . . Viva la revolucion.” I smiled at him and nodded vigorously. As he walked off with his arms full of Pecorino Romano he barked, “VIVA EL CHE!!!”
(Mi amigo Carlos who taught me to say “Que Pasa Con La Rasa” posing proudly with some cheese)
My heart was swollen with proletarian pride. After that, even the quiet Mexican from Chiapas would smile at me every time he passed, sometimes raising a fist, and occasionally murmuring, “Viva Commandante Marcos.” Even with all the revolutionary sentiment I’d stirred up, I didn’t manage to organize a union, though one surely was needed.
Oddly, I’ve never met a Mexican yellow cab driver (another group of immigrants who would do well to form a union). I’ve met immigrants from pretty much every other country on earth who drive yellow cabs. And I’m sure there are Mexican cabbies. There must be. I’ve just never met one.
The result is that I have no reliable source for Mexican food recommendations in New York City (Murray’s Mexicans all ate at home). I’ve asked my Mexican fares, but I’ve never found a Mexican restaurant with tacos or burritos that compares to what I’ve eaten in California . . . until yesterday.
My friend Mark (not a Mexican, but he is fluent in Spanish after living in Argentina for a few months) urged me to visit a place near his Clinton Hill apartment called Castro’s. Mark, a very talented musician who just finished a great album all about apples, knows his burritos. He swears by Castro’s, and now I do too.
The burritos at Castro’s are gigantic. They are probably larger than the ones I found in the Mission District (unless my memory has faded), and certainly larger than the ones I found in East L.A. and San Diego. The innards are full of fresh veggies, fluffy rice, wet black beans, and succulent meat. They serve a generous portion of guacamole, salsa, and spicy green sauce on the side so that each bite can be custom flavored.
The highlight of the Castro’s burrito is the tortilla. They do a sort of toasting of the entire burrito once it is contructed. The burritos are placed onto a tray, lifted upwards, and pressed against the roof of the oven. A small brown spot appears on the top of each burrito where it touched the metal, and the texture of the tortilla comes out varied from crispy to chewy depending on how close it was the roof or the tray. Every bite is a unique taste sensation.
(One of the burrito’s broke apart before it was half eaten, but Mark claims that this was a first)
I’m not saying Castro’s burrito is the same as an authentic California burrito. I’m saying a comparable wave of ecstasy washed over me as I ate it. It made my shoulders relax, my mind expand, and my belly widen. And, as always, I was totally down with the Mexicans.
Castro’s, Myrtle Ave btwn Ryerson and Gran, Clinton Hill, Brooklyn
Visit www.famousfatdave.com for a good time or to book an eating tour
Mmmm…burrito! Did you know that in Mexico, you really cannot find a burrito? Apparently it is not a mexican “invention”. It probably originated in San Diego or Texas.
If you are ever here in California, a generic but good burrito can be found at Baja Fresh. Get the enchilada style Dos Manos (so big you need to hold it with 2 hands). It’s pretty good for a mexican resto chain.
But ofcourse the mexican food at Olvera Street and L.A. are still really good. Getting hungry again……
Comment by acmr — June 21, 2006 @ 3:32 pm
Hey Dave,
I found your blog via Gawker and have enjoyed it vastly. When you were talking about burritos in New York, I was suprised that you never mentioned Castro’s before. It’s in my neighborhood and in my opinion, it is the finest burrito in the city.
Comment by Victoria — June 21, 2006 @ 4:11 pm
Great, now I’m craving Mexican food. Good post, FFD. Sweet Mary do I want some Mexican food right now.
Comment by AnnWilder — June 21, 2006 @ 10:02 pm
Mexican food is sounding really good right now. Glad to hear you found a mexican place worthy of your stomach.
Comment by Natalie — June 22, 2006 @ 1:45 pm
Dave,
I have to say something right now that is not very popular, but it is right.
I live in California. I have lived with a Mexican roommate for many years who makes delicious food at home and has taken me to many good places in LA.
Here’s the thing, I grew up in Chicago and I like the Mexican food there better (gasp). The Mexican population in Chicago comes from a different area in Mexico than most of the population in Southern California and Texas (supposedly ‘Tex-Mex’ is better than Cali’s), and the food they cook has different flavors and a different style altogether. I may just be more used to it, but I love all the little family-owned joints in Chicago…. I’ve had some of the best Mexican food there.
Tell me next time you’re there because Jeremy can’t be trusted for these things.
Comment by Ayala — June 23, 2006 @ 5:23 pm
Wow. That is a nice lookin’ burrito. It seems Castro’s is the place to go for Cal-Mex. Next time you’re on the LES, may I suggest El Maguey y La Tuna on Houston Street, near Attorney?
They do authentic Mex cuisine and were apparently based in Brooklyn in a past incarnation. The mole verde is a beautiful thing. Also, next time you have a cold, try the chicken soup. You can’t get broth this real or tasty anywhere else. Lastly, may I suggest the sopapillas, usually with a special ice cream? (I’ve had it with dulce de leche and cinammon ice creams). Don’t forget to order a Mexican Coke (made with sugar, not corn syrup) with your meal, but skip the Brandy if you’re on a shift!
Oh, and the wait staff (the women anyway) are ultra sweet and pleasant. It’s a nice place to be a regular at.
Comment by Paul Smalera — June 23, 2006 @ 6:02 pm
Viva el castro! You paid a good homage. Next time let’s hit up los pollitos III. It’s a little swanky (it’ll be a date) BUT you can get a whole chicken for $7.65 (with a salad!).
Oh, one thing you didn’t mention about castros, is that the burrito was only $6.00. I know you’re more concerned about the taste, but I find that price PRET-te hard to be.
FFD - you know what I like about you…..
Comment by Mark — June 23, 2006 @ 9:24 pm
Well, it’s not in the city, but if you’re ever up in Westchester, you’ve gotta try New Rochelle’s Mexican restaurants. I’d particularly recommend El Gran Rodeo on North Avenue - the Mexican population in New Ro is huge, so there’s strong among the many eateries.
Comment by Rob S. — June 24, 2006 @ 3:44 am
[…] Second Avenue Deli closed, so I’m in desperate need of a tip on a good corned beef sandwich. I haven’t found too many great burritos in this town, so I often test my Spanish skills in hopes of finding one to rival a west coaster. And I’m slightly obsessed with pickles, so I tend to nudge the converstion in that direction if it seems like someone might know his way around a full sour. […]
Pingback by The Hungry Cabbie: The Eating Adventures of a NYC Yellow Cabbie » How Much For Just One Rib? — October 19, 2006 @ 7:28 pm
[…] I sat through 4 years of Montgomery County Public School Spanish between 7th and 10th grades. And I lived in Madrid for 4 months while I interned at the US Embassy. But I didn’t pick up a lick of Spanish until my stint working with a bunch of Mexicans as a cheesemonger at Murray’s Cheese Shop. […]
Pingback by The Hungry Cabbie: The Eating Adventures of a NYC Yellow Cabbie » Zihuat Eats — June 8, 2007 @ 5:18 am