Review Thu Nov 06 2014

Seafood-Inspired Tacos: From Streets of Tijuana to Wicker Park

By Judy Wu

"I was attracted to the stove flame, but my grandmother pushed me back. It was dangerous. But how could something so delicious come from such a dangerous thing?" Chef Guillermo Campos Moreno details the origins of his love for cooking, a journey which would later include a peyote-inspired "spiritual" awakening in the desert, a 7-month solo trip through Mexico, a brief stint at Michelin star restaurant Oud Sluis, and elaborate meals for corrupt Mexican politicians.

Now, Chef Guillermo helms the kitchen at Kokopelli, a Wicker Park-based taqueria born from a food truck in Tijuana, San Diego's sister-city. The eclectic food truck was featured on Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmerman, and his concept eventually caught the eye of several investors in Chicago. True to its Tijuana roots, the restaurant specializes in seafood and colorful salsas, though there are plenty of warm-blooded and vegetarian options. Kokopelli's signature chargrilled tortillas are crunchier than the familiar soft shells, and while people like both hard-fried and soft shells, some find pseudo-crisp tortillas morally disconcerting.

So let me just state clearly--no one wins The Best Taco game. People get real touchy about tacos. In the NYT, Gustavo Arellano goes so far as to claim that "non-Mexicans who glorify 'authentic' Mexican cuisine, even with respectful intent, are engaging in a kind of xenophobia...by keeping Mexican food separate, out of the American mainstream." Traditionalists vehemently defend the "authenticity" of al pastor and grilled steak, while others prefer modern versions: bulgogi with kimchi, BBQ brisket tacos, shrimp tempura tacos with fermented black beans, and even god-awful vegan tofu tacos. Some claim true tacos belong on the streets, messily consumed while standing near a food cart. Others like sit-down DIY tacos, complete with an enormous basket of chips and margaritas. Sauce or slaw, dribble or no dribble, grilled or fried, double-or singled layered?

Whatever the choice, taco connoisseurs generally agree upon three things. First, the ingredients must be fresh. Chef Guillermo mixes his own salt, chops and marinates whole seafood, and crafts all his sauces from scratch. Second, tacos should be served immediately. Tortilla edges curl and harden within minutes, and the juicy interior cannot soak through its shell (i.e., never box up tacos to go). Finally, tacos must be complemented by some form of salsa (or "sauce"). Kokopelli's salsas are all spicy and texturally intriguing, ranging from mild and sweet (pineapple and habanero) to hummus-like (roasted pumpkin seed with serrano and bell pepper) to black tahini meets Thailand (charred chile de arbol and peanut). Kokopelli's light, flavorful tacos are gentle to the waistline, though the same cannot be said for the guac-laden chicharron cups and apple chimichanga desserts.

As I eat, salsa and grilled seafood juice oozes out of every orifice. The pulpo (octopus) is exceptionally tender and flavorful. Te gusta? Chef asks. I nod. He darts into the kitchen and returns five minutes later with another taco: grilled Portobello, crispy cheese chip, and goat cheese sauce. Not on the menu, he gestures eagerly. Not wanting to insult the chef by eating like a gracious gringo, I swoop, grab, and devour.

I'm not exaggerating when I say Chef Guillermo cares deeply about his nation's cuisine. He's optimistic and unpolluted by age or experience. His arched, Dali-esque moustache twitches excitedly when explaining how chiles de arbol don't get sour when you char them, how the burnt seeds taste like sesame. He also explains the lore behind the restaurant's artwork (most of which he drew), and he's extremely knowledgeable about Mexican politics. "Police there will break you down until you bribe them," he says. "So food is how I express my independence." He adds that for many poor Mexicans, food is not only a source of income, but of pride.

Though competing against popular establishments like Big Star, Antique Taco, and even low-key joints like Los Gamas, Kokopelli offers a refreshing and artistic perspective on the taco. Chef Guillermo later explains the meaning behind Kokopelli. "He's the trickster god," he says, "He symbolizes freedom of expression and doing what makes you happy. Making delicious food, that's what makes me happy."