There are plenty of ways to spice up a taco.
Cholula. Habaneros grown on an ancient Aztec burial ground. The company of Salma Hayek.
But you might want to consider adding the threat of masked men flying through the air in the general direction of your head.
Introducing La Lucha, an upstart taqueria landing on Avenue A and simultaneously satisfying two critical needs in your life: viciously authentic Mexico City-style street tacos and Lucha Libre, opening this Friday.
First, let's be clear, you aren't going to get assaulted by Mexican wrestlers when you walk through the door—it's just a tiny, eight-table dining room, colored in bright pink and plastered with masks, wrestling posters and '60s Lucha movies projecting silently, for inspiration, on the wall. Which bodes well heading into your next night of fiery Mexican revelry.
And here, the ground rules of Mexico City are in effect—no guacamole, no sides of rice and beans, and a staunch anti-burrito position. Drop by at the start of a long night and you'll get a grilled tortilla doused with six different imported chilis, created by a guy who's eaten his way around the Mexican capital. Or specials like the Mil Máscaras: a trio of tortillas piled with cecina steak, Oaxaca cheese and enough bacon to make sure you're ready for the various tequila menus of the East Village.
It's always wise to have bacon in your corner.
Cholula. Habaneros grown on an ancient Aztec burial ground. The company of Salma Hayek.
But you might want to consider adding the threat of masked men flying through the air in the general direction of your head.
Introducing La Lucha, an upstart taqueria landing on Avenue A and simultaneously satisfying two critical needs in your life: viciously authentic Mexico City-style street tacos and Lucha Libre, opening this Friday.
First, let's be clear, you aren't going to get assaulted by Mexican wrestlers when you walk through the door—it's just a tiny, eight-table dining room, colored in bright pink and plastered with masks, wrestling posters and '60s Lucha movies projecting silently, for inspiration, on the wall. Which bodes well heading into your next night of fiery Mexican revelry.
And here, the ground rules of Mexico City are in effect—no guacamole, no sides of rice and beans, and a staunch anti-burrito position. Drop by at the start of a long night and you'll get a grilled tortilla doused with six different imported chilis, created by a guy who's eaten his way around the Mexican capital. Or specials like the Mil Máscaras: a trio of tortillas piled with cecina steak, Oaxaca cheese and enough bacon to make sure you're ready for the various tequila menus of the East Village.
It's always wise to have bacon in your corner.
