Description
You have, no doubt, tasted a potato taco, but not like the wonderment of civilization that is the potato taco at this taqueria chain's grungy outpost on the fringes of Glassell Park. These tacos de papas are thin corn tortillas folded around bland spoonfuls of mashed spuds and fried to an indelicate, shattering crunch. The barely seasoned potatoes exist basically as a smooth, unctuous substance that oozes out of the tacos with the deliberate grace of molten lava. The glorious stink of hot grease and toasted corn subsumes any subtle, earthy hint of potato, and they evaporate so quickly that you are thankful they come 10 to an order. I was tipped off to El Atacor #11 by an unsigned e-mail instructing me to Google the phrase "porno burrito" I did. A healthy percentage of the results pointed toward the restaurant. The potato taco may be El Atacor's enduring glory, but its fame in the online world comes mostly from its Super Burrito, a foil-wrapped construction the size and girth of your forearm. It is impossible to look at a Super Burrito without marveling at the flaccid, masculine mass of the thing. It is probably even harder to bite into it without laughing. A standard composition of beans, rice, sour cream, guacamole, meat, lettuce, etc., it is a formidable item of food and a proper subject of veneration, but it may be more admirable as an object than as an actual burrito. Also at El Atacor #8, 86506 Whittier Blvd., E.L.A.
