As a white suburbanite who came of age in the 1960s, I only ate hard shell tacos. Seasoned ground beef, grated cheddar from a bag, tomato and lettuce stuffed into a crunchy Old El Paso casing and topped with sour cream. We were glad that was part of Mom’s culinary repertoire.
After arriving in Florida in my 20s, at some point I came upon the soft shell taco. First wheat, then corn. Imagine my good fortune. Then — what? You can put stuff other than ground beef inside?
I’ve been a soft-shell man ever since. I still have the occasional crackly version, but overall I don’t miss shards of deep-fried tortilla and taco innards crumbling in my hands.
This week’s taco competition — soft tortilla division — features Chinelos Tacqueria in Kenneth City and Guac ‘n’ Cheese, the downtown St. Pete location.
CHINELOS TACQUERIA
This small restaurant in a strip center at the junction of 54th Avenue and 62nd Street North has been open about three years. At 6:30 Tuesday, the parking lot was empty but there were a few customers inside. They all spoke Spanish. How’s that not a good sign? 
Victor, the owner, is a gregarious man, a proud Mexican with an accent to match. He took orders at the counter and hollered them to his kitchen staff in the back. His food, he proclaimed — loudly — is authentic Mexican. Therefore he uses only soft corn tortillas made in-house. Every ingredient is fresh, he stressed, nothing frozen, nothing from a bag.
I ordered the 3 Taco Combo ($13.95): carnitas (pork), pollo asado (grilled chicken) and tinga (shredded chicken), with beans and rice, plus a Sidral Mundel Apple Soda ($2.99), a Mexican brand.
Bonnie and I did not go splitsies. She got her own 2 Taco combo.
Appearance
I’ve never been to Mexico, but I was definitely buying that this was an authentic Mexican meal.
Texture and Taste
All of the tacos were splendid. Here’s how I rank them, although they’re not separated by much.
- The carnitas managed to be moist and have some crispy bits mixed in. The pork was lean and just the right level of chewy.
- Similarly, the carne asada had small chunks of chicken that were grilled a light brown on the outside but stayed moist and succulent within.
- No complaints about the tinga. I simply liked it slightly less than the other two. (If I’m nitpicking, the shredded chicken may have been a tad chewier than I prefer.)
The tortillas had a subtle corn taste that blended well with the other ingredients. They were thin and did tend to fall apart, though. But — I … did … not … care.
Chinelos eschewed the shmear of sour cream you get in most Mexican restaurants. The green tomatillo sauce was divine, providing a tinge of spicy heat for some bonus zip. It this stuff were available in bottles, I’m in for a case.
GUAC N’ CHEESE MEXICAN GRILL
As we approached at 6 p.m. Wednesday, our jackets zipped and me sporting a fedora, the place’s exterior looked invitingly festive. Guac n’ Cheese, which opened in late October, is tucked into a coworking space on 8th Street between Central and 1st Avenue North. The flagship restaurant opened in South Tampa in 2019.
Two guys leaned over the long bar that occupied the left side of the narrow(ish) space. Guac’s ambience is considerably more refined than Chinelos’s
Business was slow and the space was quiet. Four of us sat at a table next to the front window. Our server was efficient and unintrusive, almost stealthy. Instead of hollering to the kitchen, he punched our orders into a tablet.
No splitsies tonight, either. I got the Tacos ($14.99), a platter of three in the same combination as that of Chinelos, with beans and rice, and a Negro Model draft ($7). (The eatery also offered soft wheat tortillas and hard shells.)
Appearance
As expected, Guac’s pesentation was more polished than the one at Chinelos, with each taco nestled in its own slot and sprinkled with shredded cheese. There was sour cream on the plate, but, at my request, our server also brought me tiny containers of red and green sauce.
Texture and Taste
By any measure, this was a first-rate plate of tacos — without the rustic authenticity of the competition’s, but tasty through and through. I won’t rank them — I’ve kept you long enough — although I slightly favored the carne asada.
I knifed on some sour cream, then caught myself and remembered the sauces. They were first-rate, the green nosing out the red.
The white corn tortillas, with an understated flavor, were firmer than those at Chinelos, making the tacos more tidy to eat. The viscous refried beans poured luxuriantly over the yellow rice, making for a sultry blend.
It was an ample meal, but I easily cleaned the plate.
And the Winner of the Titanic Taco Tussle (Soft Shell Edition) Is …
Chinelos Tacqueria.
As the talking heads on sports debate shows like to say, no disrespect to Guac n’ Cheese but Chinelos’s tacos were that good. They rank with the best I’ve ever had. And the place’s ramshackle energy made for a fun, quirky experience.
But Guac n’ Cheese was no distant second. It’s close to home and I’ll gladly go back. And if you’re doing a first-time dinner with a couple, and the spouses have never met, and you want a comfortable place the allows for lively conversation, Guac is probably the better bet. One caveat: I can’t say what the place is like when it’s busy.
Bonus bit: The reason I grew up on hard shell tacos is because they’re an American invention. The cripsy, U-shaped casings were developed by Mexican-American restaurateurs in the 1940s. They became the standard throughout most of America with the spread of Taco Bell, which was founded in California in 1962.
