“Spend the $2.50—a taco premium on the streets of Fruitvale—on the tripas (small intestines, i.e. chitterlings). They’re saggy, greasy, and dirty-tasting at some other loncheras, but here they’re perfect, delicately chambered and almost crisp, covered in a slushy guajillo-chile salsa that lets through just enough offal breath to make you think, ‘Holy shit.’”

“Debate raged for years on user sites whether one or the other of the Grullense trucks, which are parked 100 feet apart, was better. Far as I know, these namesakes of rural Jalisco are identical, though for no good reason I drift to the truck that parks closer to 29th Ave. This pretty much the only truck in the neighborhood I order chicken from—the soft shreds are faintly tomato-stained and deeply chickeny. I cut my neighborhood teeth on Grullense’s lengua, which is tender and amiably gray under lush green salsa.”

“Seafood—mariscos—has taken over Fruitvale in a way that seemed unimaginable just a few years ago, when carnitas and pastor were the dominant proteins. This bright yellow Grullense spinoff sells tostadas heaped with shrimp and fish ceviche—firm, lush, flecked with diced cucumber—that hit like cool, slushy relief from the heat of Sunday sidewalks.”

“Lovably scuffed, in a liquor store parking lot with a standing table rigged from Formica slabs, butted up against the store’s sign pole. Stop here for cabeza (shredded beef cheeks, mostly) so frizzled and rough-tasting you feel like it shows you something deep about the nature of non-prime cow parts. Ask for the squeeze bottle of red chile de arbol salsa, squirt liberally, and retreat to a slab to observe the street hustle.”

“The place I brought Anthony Bourdain to for No Reservations, a Salvadoran tamale truck with decent pupusas. The tamales are flabbier than I remember, but the tacos de canasta—a special scrawled on a paper plate and taped to the window—are fantastic, soft and fleshy the way the tortillas are supposed to be for canastas, soaked in an orange salsa that kicks your ass the more bites you take, filled with a mashy chorizo and potato filling as satisfying as mom-style Bolognese.”