From actual holes-in-the-wall, mixed-use developments and gas stations to garages, strip malls and trailers, taquerias can set up anywhere. The tacos that you'll find tucked into these diverse settings run the gamut of styles from simple grilled meats to cheffy combos squeezed into handmade tortillas—not to mention regional Mexican specialties. Dallas/Fort Worth has them all.
With so many options to choose from, you'll need a guide to Dallas' essential taco spots. To be clear this is not a best-of list. This is a guide to the region’s eclectic choices — ranging from scrappy newcomers to tried and true old favorites — including a couple of businesses that serve as examples of how far DFW tacos have come. Presented in alphabetical order, these 15 taquerias are essential for any DFW resident.
Don't see your favorite taqueria? Rally for it in the comments, and argue the case as to why it deserves a place on this list.
This splashy food truck dishes out miniature fry bread tacos with a Mexican cap. Hence, their name: Mayan Tacos. Served two per order, the tacos are topped with a pyramid of crema, crumbled white cheese, tomatoes, onions, not-iceberg lettuce, juicy chicken and refried beans. Of note: this truck frequents the Truck Yard more than any other venue.
Occupying the sweet spot between modern and traditional taqueria isn’t easy—unless you’re El Come Taco. The East Dallas taco joint packs in metal punched tables, exposed brick, neon calaveras, local craft beer and classic tacos—we’re talking everything from chorizo and lengua to chapulines (roasted grasshoppers) and tacos al pastor straight from the spit.
There is no debating Fuel City’s importance to Dallas’ taco scene. In 2006, Texas Monthly named this 24-hour gas station-zoo’s mushy picadillo taco as the Lone Star State’s pre-eminent tortilla-based parcel, thus cementing Dallas’ place on Texas’ taco landscape. A decade later, the walk-up, cash-only taqueria hasn’t seemed to change a lick, which makes Fuel City the place to go to taste how far Dallas’ taco scene has transformed. It’s also where you go to nosh on the little-known and undervalued category of drunk tacos. Your taste buds are shot anyway.
A classic example of a tortilla factory supplementing business with limited food service, La Nueva Fresh & Hot slings classic guisados (a wide-ranging collection of homey, slow-cooked stews eaten through the morning). Tacos like the rajas con queso (roasted poblano strips with melted cheese), the signature guisado verde of pork wrapped in tongue-charring green chile sauce and the lamb barbacoa in doubled-up cottony tortillas make trekking to Webb Chapel Road north of Bachman Lake more than worth it.
If it’s excellent gas station tacos you seek, schlep to the Chevron at Coit and Spring Valley roads. Inside sits a counter operation specializing in cabeza al vapor tacos (steamed beef head tacos) with various meat tacos rounding out the menu. Choose from the texture-popping surtida served different parts of head meat, the mellow sliced lengua and the campechano of chorizo with fajita or suadero. Feeling brave? Ask for the habanero-peanut salsa. You’ll be the cooks’ newest best friend, especially when you cough in pain.
Texas’ cattle country spirit and a well-rooted northern Mexican immigrant population, have given Dallas-Fort Worth a bevy of meat taco options, but very little in the way of worth-a-damn vegetarian tacos. So when Resident Taqueria opened in October 2015, plant-eaters rejoiced. The caramelized cauliflower laced with kale and sprinkled with green pumpkin seeds might scream hipster taco to the uninitiated. But like the fish taco paired with cabbage, lime crema, and watermelon radish with a shawl of mustard pearls, the house-made chorizo with cubed potatoes and a smoked tomato crema, and all the tacos served at this Lake Highlands joint, everything respectfully nods to the flavor profiles of the taco homeland.
What could very well be the best taqueria in Texas has seen some real estate drama, with the Fort Worth restaurant ever on the verge of closing, and then there’s the long-promised, ever-in-limbo Deep Ellum location. But now the original outpost has shuttered, with its equipment being moved to a new on Forest Park Blvd in Cowtown. Moving with Revolver will be the made-to-order corn tortillas, the base for the upmarket tacos of huitlacoche (Mexican corn truffles), seared duck, the octopus carnitas, and the superb chorizo and egg taco of aged chorizo and whole beans topped with a fried quail egg.
This Fort Worth institution is unique among the entries. At its several locations, including Museo, the name for the Salsa Limón housed in a 1947 vintage diner in the Cultural District, the food reflects the tri-regional heritage of co-owner Ramiro Ramirez. His parents are from Oaxaca and the Rio Grande Valley but he’s from Mexico City. Those influences are evident in the El Capitan taco, a crisped flour tortilla packed with carne asada, a netting of melted Oaxaca-Monterey Jack cheese, a heavy-handed shot of pickled cabbage, and onion and cilantro, of course. Museo has closed in preparation for it’s move—and by move we mean everything from slab foundation up—to 5012 White Settlement Road. In the meantime, you can get your Salsa Limón fix from the truck on the Museo site.
The original Tacodeli opened in Austin in 1999 quickly becoming the quintessential Austin taqueria with its knack for inventive tacos folding the area’s locavore sensibility into the culinary multiverse of Mexican eats and Tex-Mex. When Tacodeli came to Dallas and chose to source tortillas from the neighborhood’s La Norteña Tortilleria, which specializes in the buttery, translucent Sonoran-style flour tortilla, the restaurant upped their game. Favorites here fall mostly into the breakfast category. They include The Otto (creamy refried black beans, an extra crispy bacon strip and queso fresco) and the migas. For lunch, here’s a protip: Order the Freakin’ Vegan with grilled queso fresco and Akaushi picadillo to make the Meat is Murder Taco.
The elaborate seafood tacos of Tijuana shine just west of Trinity Groves. Diners line up for the seafood campechano of grilled octopus and carne asada and the double whammy of fungus (portabella mushrooms with fresh huitlacoche), a side of mole fries and an agua fresca to wash it down with. Pop in on Tuesdays for the CriscoKidd Fish Tacos! Mahi Mahi breaded with crumbled chicharron with guacamole, onions, crema, and pico de gallo.
The walk-up taqueria is a favorite of construction workers, local Design District residents and tacos lovers from all walks of life. They go for the saucy picadillo punctuated with carrots and potatoes. They go for the crispy strands of carnitas, the steak with truly “magic onions” cooked down with bacon and a hush-hush marmalade. And they go for the diminutive breakfast tacos. Make sure to ask for the off-menu seasonal taco special. It’s sure to be a stunner.
This old-timer stands resolute between the Kessler Theater and the Bishop Arts District serving cash-only tacos for just more than a buck. The drawback here is a lesson in you get what you pay for. There is little difference in taste between the al pastor and the barbacoa cradled in greasy, age-indeterminate tortillas. It begs the question: Is loyalty—and the adjacent elotes stand with a line longer than the one for tacos—the sole factor sustaining this shack?
About two years ago, Trompo was an Oak Cliff backyard taco speakeasy. Today, it’s a little taqueria next to a tire shop that’s garnered national praise from Bon Appétit. Hitting the big time has created lines and waits for order to be called, but it hasn’t reduced the quality. Go for the namesake taco: a taco de trompo. The taco al pastor’s northern Mexican cousin eschews the chile- and -achiote-based dressing of pork al pastor for a paprika-heavy marinade that’s punchy with pinches of smokiness and not a pineapple in sight. Whatever else you order, request the Monterrey-style campechana: trompo meat and beef mixed with white cheese on a flour tortilla made a couple miles up the road.
Perhaps the most dismissed taqueria in the city, Urban Taco offers spiffy takes on tacos from across Mexico, all in tortillas made from fresh nixtamalized masa (i.e., the Aztec way). The chicken mole taco employees the mole recipe from co-owner and Mexico City native Markus Pinyero’s mother, and the pastor is sliced from the traditional vertical spit, the trompo. Go deluxe on the al pastor with the a la Tuma. It melds the street taco cousin costra’s fried-cheese shell to a corn tortilla with habanero-bathed pastor, pineapple and avocado.
Boundaries? What boundaries? A favorite with the lunch and late-night crowds, Velvet Taco barrels headlong toward the taco’s limits with options like the fish n’ chips taco, the Nashville hot tofu, and the buffalo chicken anchored by handmade tortillas. Try the hibiscus tortillas, which echo the mixed tortillas south of the border while carrying enough bitterness to balance other dialed-up flavors.
This splashy food truck dishes out miniature fry bread tacos with a Mexican cap. Hence, their name: Mayan Tacos. Served two per order, the tacos are topped with a pyramid of crema, crumbled white cheese, tomatoes, onions, not-iceberg lettuce, juicy chicken and refried beans. Of note: this truck frequents the Truck Yard more than any other venue.
Occupying the sweet spot between modern and traditional taqueria isn’t easy—unless you’re El Come Taco. The East Dallas taco joint packs in metal punched tables, exposed brick, neon calaveras, local craft beer and classic tacos—we’re talking everything from chorizo and lengua to chapulines (roasted grasshoppers) and tacos al pastor straight from the spit.
There is no debating Fuel City’s importance to Dallas’ taco scene. In 2006, Texas Monthly named this 24-hour gas station-zoo’s mushy picadillo taco as the Lone Star State’s pre-eminent tortilla-based parcel, thus cementing Dallas’ place on Texas’ taco landscape. A decade later, the walk-up, cash-only taqueria hasn’t seemed to change a lick, which makes Fuel City the place to go to taste how far Dallas’ taco scene has transformed. It’s also where you go to nosh on the little-known and undervalued category of drunk tacos. Your taste buds are shot anyway.
A classic example of a tortilla factory supplementing business with limited food service, La Nueva Fresh & Hot slings classic guisados (a wide-ranging collection of homey, slow-cooked stews eaten through the morning). Tacos like the rajas con queso (roasted poblano strips with melted cheese), the signature guisado verde of pork wrapped in tongue-charring green chile sauce and the lamb barbacoa in doubled-up cottony tortillas make trekking to Webb Chapel Road north of Bachman Lake more than worth it.
If it’s excellent gas station tacos you seek, schlep to the Chevron at Coit and Spring Valley roads. Inside sits a counter operation specializing in cabeza al vapor tacos (steamed beef head tacos) with various meat tacos rounding out the menu. Choose from the texture-popping surtida served different parts of head meat, the mellow sliced lengua and the campechano of chorizo with fajita or suadero. Feeling brave? Ask for the habanero-peanut salsa. You’ll be the cooks’ newest best friend, especially when you cough in pain.
Texas’ cattle country spirit and a well-rooted northern Mexican immigrant population, have given Dallas-Fort Worth a bevy of meat taco options, but very little in the way of worth-a-damn vegetarian tacos. So when Resident Taqueria opened in October 2015, plant-eaters rejoiced. The caramelized cauliflower laced with kale and sprinkled with green pumpkin seeds might scream hipster taco to the uninitiated. But like the fish taco paired with cabbage, lime crema, and watermelon radish with a shawl of mustard pearls, the house-made chorizo with cubed potatoes and a smoked tomato crema, and all the tacos served at this Lake Highlands joint, everything respectfully nods to the flavor profiles of the taco homeland.
What could very well be the best taqueria in Texas has seen some real estate drama, with the Fort Worth restaurant ever on the verge of closing, and then there’s the long-promised, ever-in-limbo Deep Ellum location. But now the original outpost has shuttered, with its equipment being moved to a new on Forest Park Blvd in Cowtown. Moving with Revolver will be the made-to-order corn tortillas, the base for the upmarket tacos of huitlacoche (Mexican corn truffles), seared duck, the octopus carnitas, and the superb chorizo and egg taco of aged chorizo and whole beans topped with a fried quail egg.
This Fort Worth institution is unique among the entries. At its several locations, including Museo, the name for the Salsa Limón housed in a 1947 vintage diner in the Cultural District, the food reflects the tri-regional heritage of co-owner Ramiro Ramirez. His parents are from Oaxaca and the Rio Grande Valley but he’s from Mexico City. Those influences are evident in the El Capitan taco, a crisped flour tortilla packed with carne asada, a netting of melted Oaxaca-Monterey Jack cheese, a heavy-handed shot of pickled cabbage, and onion and cilantro, of course. Museo has closed in preparation for it’s move—and by move we mean everything from slab foundation up—to 5012 White Settlement Road. In the meantime, you can get your Salsa Limón fix from the truck on the Museo site.
The original Tacodeli opened in Austin in 1999 quickly becoming the quintessential Austin taqueria with its knack for inventive tacos folding the area’s locavore sensibility into the culinary multiverse of Mexican eats and Tex-Mex. When Tacodeli came to Dallas and chose to source tortillas from the neighborhood’s La Norteña Tortilleria, which specializes in the buttery, translucent Sonoran-style flour tortilla, the restaurant upped their game. Favorites here fall mostly into the breakfast category. They include The Otto (creamy refried black beans, an extra crispy bacon strip and queso fresco) and the migas. For lunch, here’s a protip: Order the Freakin’ Vegan with grilled queso fresco and Akaushi picadillo to make the Meat is Murder Taco.
The elaborate seafood tacos of Tijuana shine just west of Trinity Groves. Diners line up for the seafood campechano of grilled octopus and carne asada and the double whammy of fungus (portabella mushrooms with fresh huitlacoche), a side of mole fries and an agua fresca to wash it down with. Pop in on Tuesdays for the CriscoKidd Fish Tacos! Mahi Mahi breaded with crumbled chicharron with guacamole, onions, crema, and pico de gallo.
The walk-up taqueria is a favorite of construction workers, local Design District residents and tacos lovers from all walks of life. They go for the saucy picadillo punctuated with carrots and potatoes. They go for the crispy strands of carnitas, the steak with truly “magic onions” cooked down with bacon and a hush-hush marmalade. And they go for the diminutive breakfast tacos. Make sure to ask for the off-menu seasonal taco special. It’s sure to be a stunner.
This old-timer stands resolute between the Kessler Theater and the Bishop Arts District serving cash-only tacos for just more than a buck. The drawback here is a lesson in you get what you pay for. There is little difference in taste between the al pastor and the barbacoa cradled in greasy, age-indeterminate tortillas. It begs the question: Is loyalty—and the adjacent elotes stand with a line longer than the one for tacos—the sole factor sustaining this shack?
About two years ago, Trompo was an Oak Cliff backyard taco speakeasy. Today, it’s a little taqueria next to a tire shop that’s garnered national praise from Bon Appétit. Hitting the big time has created lines and waits for order to be called, but it hasn’t reduced the quality. Go for the namesake taco: a taco de trompo. The taco al pastor’s northern Mexican cousin eschews the chile- and -achiote-based dressing of pork al pastor for a paprika-heavy marinade that’s punchy with pinches of smokiness and not a pineapple in sight. Whatever else you order, request the Monterrey-style campechana: trompo meat and beef mixed with white cheese on a flour tortilla made a couple miles up the road.
Perhaps the most dismissed taqueria in the city, Urban Taco offers spiffy takes on tacos from across Mexico, all in tortillas made from fresh nixtamalized masa (i.e., the Aztec way). The chicken mole taco employees the mole recipe from co-owner and Mexico City native Markus Pinyero’s mother, and the pastor is sliced from the traditional vertical spit, the trompo. Go deluxe on the al pastor with the a la Tuma. It melds the street taco cousin costra’s fried-cheese shell to a corn tortilla with habanero-bathed pastor, pineapple and avocado.
Boundaries? What boundaries? A favorite with the lunch and late-night crowds, Velvet Taco barrels headlong toward the taco’s limits with options like the fish n’ chips taco, the Nashville hot tofu, and the buffalo chicken anchored by handmade tortillas. Try the hibiscus tortillas, which echo the mixed tortillas south of the border while carrying enough bitterness to balance other dialed-up flavors.
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