Tacos de Cabeza al Vapor

This is Ciudad de Mexico. Not Tijuana, not Monterrey, not Puebla. Tacos de cabeza al vapor belong to the capital, to the puestos that set up before dawn on Eje Central and around the markets of La Merced, San Juan, and Jamaica, where the taquero pulls the cabeza in chunks from a tall metal canasto wrapped in cloth and chops it to order on a wooden block.

Cabeza is not one taco. It is several. Cachete is the cheek, the fattiest and most flavorful, the cut everyone with sense orders first. Lengua is the tongue, dense and clean. Maciza is the lean meat from the head. Then come the cuts for the ones who know: ojo, labio, sesos, oreja, nervio. Every part of the head goes into the vaporera and every part has its loyalists. At a real puesto the taquero asks before he chops: cachete o maciza, lengua o surtido. You answer in one word and he goes to work.

The technique is steam, not braise, not stew. Three hours over a covered bath of aromatics, the meat wrapped in cloth so the condensation bastes it from above. No oil, no chile in the cooking liquid, no shortcuts. The meat comes out pale, tender, and clean, ready to take the salsa verde and the raw onion that finish the taco. Tacos de cabeza is not a dish that hides behind heavy seasoning. The meat is the meat. La cocina no es decoracion, es trabajo.

My mother did not make tacos de cabeza. This was not her dish; she was from Jalisco and she made birria. But Ciudad de Mexico raised me, and the puesto on the corner of Doctor Mora made my Saturdays for a decade. The senor who ran it, Don Chucho, would chop the cachete without me asking. He knew. Recetas probadas y garantizadas. No me vengas con atajos.