Review: Pricey taco showdown in the West Loop

How much are you willing to pay for a taco? Three recently opened Mexican restaurants in the West Loop are, perhaps unintentionally, testing the public’s appetite — $4.98 tacos are the minimum here, and you’ll find some going for much more. If you believe that great tacos always need to be cheap, brace yourself for disappointment.

I understand the thought. Most of my favorite tacos are found outside of downtown and cost less than $5. Odds are good that your neighborhood taqueria serves cheaper and tastier tacos than most West Loop and River North taco spots.

But I strongly reject the idea that tacos have to be cheap. This view disregards the effort poured into them and the costs of ingredients. If you don’t believe me, try the phenomenal fried oyster taco at Mi Tocaya Antojería ($9.60) or the duck carnitas taco at Taqueria Chingón ($7). Plus, some tacos are simply bigger than others, explaining why you’ll pay $8 for the massive campechano taco (featuring a mix of carne asada and chicharron) at Rubi’s Tacos, the excellent Pilsen taqueria.

Where do Bodega Taqueria y Tequila, Tacombi and Texan Taco Bar fall? Let’s find out.

Bodega Taqueria y Tequila

Amble up to the first Midwest location of this South Florida taco chain, and you won’t find a counter, but a gleaming Airstream trailer. To place an order, you chat with an employee through the front window, just like at a taco truck. It’s a neat bit of design work.

Too bad I hate nearly everything else about this place, from the indifferent service to the quote plastered on the wall encouraging everyone to become a functioning alcoholic. (The quote changes often, but both times I went it had something to do with ignoring your problems by drinking more tequila.) But what I hate the most are the tacos. These are thoughtless creations with brittle tortillas, weak salsas and mushy meat.

The carnitas ($5) look like pulled pork made in a crockpot, while the carne asada ($6) tastes like it’s been sitting in a steam tray for an eternity. Even worse is the barbacoa ($6.25), which was so dry and stringy that it’s like someone in the kitchen had a vendetta against the meat and wanted it obliterated.

If I were king, Bodega’s version of al pastor ($5.50) would be a punishable crime. Just look what they’ve done to my favorite taco on earth. Instead of juicy nuggets of marinated pork, Bodega serves mealy, stringy pieces of underseasoned meat with way too much sweet pineapple mixed in and then has the gall to top it with a creamy salsa.

Bodega seems to intentionally want to botch the basics. When I ordered a side of salsa verde, I received a small plastic cup pulled straight from the fridge. Instead of a pourable consistency, the salsa had solidified into a mass that plopped out of the container like Jell-O. What kind of bush league nonsense is this?

Glance at Bodega’s website, and you’ll see that the taqueria is mostly just a clever front for the “speakeasy” located in the back. It might be a gorgeous place to hang out, but as for the tacos, you’ve been warned.

Rating: No stars

Texan Taco Bar

Opened last summer after several delays, Texan Taco Bar looks like a supersize version of Big Star, taking the honky-tonk-with-tacos concept and stretching it out over a cavernous first floor and a rooftop patio. This is the work of Michael Bisbee and Tim Hendricks, best known for Parlor Pizza Bar. That tremendously popular concept now has three locations, though it also ran into some legal issues in the past few years.

But unlike Big Star, Texan Taco Bar doesn’t seem to have any ambition to serve great tacos. While there’s a competency here that avoids any Bodega-level taco travesties, you’ll also spend a lot of money on some middling tacos.

The Baja-style fish taco arrives looking pale and sad, though it has a decently crunchy crust. The al pastor is moderately juicy, though the salsa cruda on top needs at least some kick.

But a lot of the tacos feel like they are expensive for no real reason. Perhaps to make you feel better about spending $7 for a carne asada taco, each one comes with some completely unnecessary “crispy leeks” and a creamy mayonnaise spiked with barely a hint of chile de arbol. But if the restaurant really cared it wouldn’t serve such dry beef.

The biggest disappointment is actually the crunchy beef taco, which looks like a bog-standard crispy taco from Taco Bell, but with half the flavor. You might think I’m kidding, but this oft-reviled taco style honestly deserves better. In fact, Chicago has a small but proud fried taco tradition mostly located on the far South Side that blows the Bell away. Order a gorgeous golden-hued crispy corn taco at Mr. Taco Mex in South Deering to see what I mean.

Even with the many caveats, I was about to give Texan Taco Bar a pass until I asked for some salsa. As is common with spots downtown, all of the tacos arrive with some salsa already on top. I definitely prefer when taquerias have options out for customers to customize the spice level to their liking, but I realize salsa costs money and giving it away doesn’t always make financial sense. But when I asked my waitress if I could purchase some extra salsa, she said all she could do was bring over some bottled hot sauce. Automatic fail.

Rating: No Stars

Tacombi

Tacombi is also a chain with multiple locations in New York, Washington, D.C., and Florida. Tacombi’s West Loop outlet looks so much like an actual Mexican taqueria that you might think there’s a portal to our southern neighbor somewhere on Peoria Street. It’s startling. From the shiny white countertops to the colorful collection of tables and chairs, you can tell someone with actual experience working in Mexico was involved in the design.

Workers move around the kitchen area after the lunch rush at Tacombi, 126 N. Peoria St., Chicago, on Sept. 14, 2023. (John J. Kim/Chicago Tribune)

That man is Dario Wolos, who founded Tacombi in 2006 in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Though born in upstate New York, he grew up in Monterrey, Mexico.

“My mom is from Mexico, and after I was born she decided she wanted to raise a family back in Monterrey,” Wolos said. “My formative years were there.” A job opportunity eventually took him to Boston and then London, where he started pining for the food of his youth.

That led him to buy a small bus, called combi in Spanish, so he could sell tacos outside a nightclub in Playa del Carmen. After years of work, Wolos opened his first permanent restaurant in New York City in 2010. (If you hadn’t guessed, the name combines the words tacos and combi.)

You might be seeing a lot more from Wolos soon. In 2021, Tacombi received $27.5 million in funding from Enlightened Hospitality Investments, a growth fund cofounded by Danny Meyer, the man behind Shake Shack. A massive expansion is in the works, with as many as 75 potential locations, including more in Chicago. (Look for a Wicker Park outlet next.)

Freshly-fried tortillas are placed in a bin at Tacombi. (John J. Kim/Chicago Tribune)

Tacombi seems legitimately concerned about the fundamentals. All of the tacos start with some good corn tortillas, which are currently being made in Tacombi’s own tortilla factory in New York. (Wolos said he hopes to soon send fresh masa to Chicago for the staff to make the tortillas here.) A small salsa bar hides in the back, offering a solid salsa cruda, made with fresh tomatillos and chilies, and a complex and legitimately spicy salsa roja.

Instead of offering a dozen different fillings, Tacombi focuses on just a few. I’m not thrilled with the al pastor, but it’s at least cooked on a trompo, the traditional vertical rotisserie. The pork gets a solid red chile marinade but has also been dry both times I’ve visited.

A carne asada taco is shown at Tacombi, 126 N. Peoria St., Thursday, Sept. 14, 2023, in Chicago. (John J. Kim/Chicago Tribune)

But the carne asada is freshly grilled so it arrives juicy with a nice dollop of creamy avocado tomatillo salsa on top. The Baja taco features a crispy piece of battered fish with pickled cabbage and a creamy roasted poblano mayo. The pollo Yucateco features chicken slathered in a rusty red achiote marinade and roasted until tender.

Make sure to order at least one birria taco, Tacombi’s version of the quesabirria taco. Each one arrives with a cup of brick-red consommé for dunking. I’ve eaten more versions of this taco in the past few years than I care to admit, and Tacombi’s offering gets the balance of spicy beef to gooey cheese right on.

Though most of the tacos are around the $5 range, they are on the smaller side, so be prepared for the bill to add up quickly. While service is prompt, it’s still a chain focused on feeding as many people as quickly as possible. It’s not a place where you’ll want to linger for a long time.

Whether or not the chain can maintain the quality, especially if it opens more Chicago locations, remains to be seen. But there’s real cooking going on at Tacombi, and the approachable atmosphere makes it ideal to grab a quick taco.

Rating: 1 1/2 stars.

nkindelsperger@chicagotribune.com