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For 21 years, La Taqueria was a Park Slope staple. It was, according to reports and local legend, the neighborhood’s first taqueria; at least, it’s the first one that people remember really liking. Owner Martin Medina — who joined the long list of Californians seduced by New York, only to find the Mexican food back then disappointing — infused the place with his love of East L.A., and in doing so helped to show Brooklynites what they were missing. La Taqueria brought Cal-Mex to brownstone Brooklyn just as the immigration wave from Puebla that would further transform the city’s food scene was starting to take hold. When La Taqueria closed in 2011, Patch called it “a day of mourning” for Park Slope. But in late July, Medina came back and reopened his shop as La Taq.
The store has moved (only slightly), but the spirit and the menu are the same. Citrusy carne asada remains a specialty. Al pastor spins on a trompo near the kitchen’s entrance. The Outrageous California burrito (which comes with two meats, rice, beans, pico de gallo, cheese, lettuce, and sour cream) is absolutely huge, and something of a steal at $19. Rachel’s Taco is a “semi-fried shell” with ground beef and the works. San Diego fries come with chopped carne asada, sour cream, pico de gallo, and guacamole. One thing that Medina is excited about are the carnitas Michoacan, which he’s making in a copper cazo with pork shoulder and butt. They are crispier than some carnitas around town, but not fried super hard. “We’re going to be a part of carnitas taking off,” he says. “I couldn’t serve this 25 years ago. People here went, Oh, God, lard. You know what I mean?”
New York’s Mexican-food scene has come a long way, and then some, since La Taqueria opened in 1989. Medina had met a girl while working as a server on a cruise ship. He grew up in the San Joaquin Valley; she was from Cobble Hill. He followed her to Brooklyn. Park Slope at that time was a lot of things, but it wasn’t a hive of taqueros. “I was hungry for my own food,” Medina says. “And that’s when I found Harry’s.”
Located in the East Village, Harry’s was one of a couple burrito shops launched by Mark Merker in the late ’80s, the other being Benny’s in the East Village. (Not to be confused with another, unrelated Benny’s Burritos in the West Village.) Burrito fever was starting to take hold in the city, but Medina knew he could do better: “I thought, What the fuck? I’ve got to do this because this is what I grew up on.”
In 1989, he launched La Taqueria as a pushcart outside 175 Remsen Street in Brooklyn Heights. The building, he figured, was a good mark because of all the lawyers who worked there. “I know these guys have traveled back and forth,” he says. “I wasn’t going to Bensonhurst and try and do this, that’s for sure.”
One of those lawyers was Sandra Schpoont, who at the time worked at the Legal Aid Society. She had done her internships in San Francisco, and still remembers the relief she had when she walked outside and saw Medina’s cart: “It’s hard to believe now, but you could not find a burrito in New York City. When I walked out of the building and saw the cart, I was like, Oh my God, California burritos.” Within a year and half of opening his cart, Medina had opened three storefronts, including La Taqueria at 70 Seventh Avenue. (The first was in Cobble Hill, but by 1992 it was under different management.) It was close enough to Schpoont’s apartment that her family would order every Wednesday.
By the time the city’s Chipotle era fully took hold last decade, Medina would close his three shops — including Rachel’s Taqueria’s and Varrio 408 — and figured he was done with restaurants. But, a few years later, he was riding his Vespa when he ran into an old friend, Louis Barricelli of Cousin John’s Cafe & Bakery, another Park Slope staple. There that day, too, was Cousin John’s general manager Edgar Loria, who grew up eating at Medina’s taquerias. Louis and Medina had known each from years of running their businesses on the same block, and Barricelli said he was moving the bakery to the corner, freeing up the space at 72 Seventh Avenue. “I asked him, ‘Well, what are you going to do with this spot?’ and we both laughed,” Medina says. “We knew that we were going to put this together here.”
Medina says he’s brought back nine of his old employees, including Maria (who makes the tortillas up front, by the window) and Sylevester. “I can’t do it without them,” he explains. The other people he says he can’t do this without are the Cousin John’s crew. Luis’s nephew, Frank Barricelli, runs social media and helps handle the business side. Loria also helps manage the business. As Medina puts it, “He and I think a lot alike, even though we are two different parts of the brain. He understands parts that I don’t understand at all — and I don’t want to.”
One of those people who has been anticipating La Taq’s return is Eddie Caceres, who worked for Medina for eight years and popped in last Friday. “The place looks so good, man. I couldn’t even believe,” he told Medina on his visit. “I’d been dying to come here. I figured you’d be here. I went by your house and I saw the Vespa wasn’t there.”
Inside, the shop looks a lot like it used to. The menu on the wall dates back to 1990; a friend had kept it in his apartment since 2011. There is, literally, a piece of the wall from the original location next door, covered in faded sticks and decals for bands (the Grateful Dead, Morex Optimo), STP motor oil, Haight-Ashbury, and more. Glittery red chairs came from Indiana, and the red neon “La Taq” sign lights up the tin ceiling.
He’s still ironing out the kinks that come with any new business — “We’re making sure that we can make a damn good burrito,” he offers — but that hasn’t stopped old fans like Schpoont from stopping in. “My daughter lives in San Francisco and she’s coming to Brooklyn next week,” she says. “And she wrote to me that she can’t wait to go to La Taq. I was joking with her that she has great burritos out there, but no.”
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