Tacos. Almost from south of the border. Food moonlighting as Mexican, moonlighting Texican in Chicago? Sure, but better. It’s more “inspired by” than pretend. And damn, this inspired food is good. See, the thing about Big Star is that it doesn’t fail. It does exactly what it’s supposed to do: brings a piece of the Texas border to the Midwest.
Not the whole thing. Just a little bit.
On Seth: “Stars” button-up by Scotch & Soda, Babe Lincoln.
On Jeff: Linen blend long-sleeve T-shirt from T by Alexander Wang; rolled khaki shorts by J.Crew; desert boots by Clarks; tan circle-frame shades courtesy of Topman; leather croakies gifted by Plett.
How sandy of you.
Which reminds us: Even if we only speak the language instead of having the heritage, “Mexican” food is part of us. Yeah, the place might be crowded. Might be hipster-ish. Might be just a dollar or two more than we want to pay, but once that $3 whiskey and those tacos hit our lips, you’re not going to catch us complaining.
Nope. Just tossing our heads back, sliding our arms around friends, saying salúd and buen provecho in perfect American mimicry.
Tecate with lime, empty shot glasses,
bad good decisions.
However, if you’re in Columbia, Missouri, go to Taqueria El Rodeo.
Hands down, the best Mexican food in Columbia at a third of Big Star’s price and three times better service. Such amenities include: using your debit card and being called, unironically, “amigos.”
The only other better thing? Having neighbors who are actually from Mexico turn your backyard into a mirth-filled celebration of carne asada, beisbol and la risa. You may have to move to my neck of Logan Square for that one.
Don’t go, verano.