Finding Angeleno Flavors at Gallardo's

Serving up nostalgia on a greasy platter

While on the hunt for more delicious food, I visited Gallardo’s Mexican Restaurant with some friends a few weeks ago. I was pretty excited since at this point I had exhausted most of my list of amazing Mexican restaurants in San Francisco and was excited to add one more. However, as I eyed the menu, my heart started to sink. You see, I have a black belt in sniffing out inauthentic Mexican food, and the alarm bells were ringing. Burritos? Chimichangas? Hamburgers? As someone who prides themself on giving fantastic food recommendations, I was worried that the end had come for me. Well, if this is the end, I might as well enjoy it. I opted with Bistec a la Mexicana, while my friends ordered some tacos.

A delicious end?

As the dishes came out, my fears were confirmed. My plate looked like someone dumped meat, beans, and cheese in a washing machine and served them on a dish. The tacos my friends ordered were burrito-sized, totally unlike the small street tacos I was used to. So imagine my surprise as I took the first bite and found myself… enjoying the food? What the hell? This is imposter Mexican-American food, not the real thing! But somehow, I felt like I was eating something special, something that I hadn’t had for a very long time.

Growing up, I was used to eating real Mexican food. When I was younger, I spent a lot of time visiting my family in Ciudad Satelite outside of Mexico City, where besides incredible homecooked family dinners we would go out and eat at restaurants like Los Arcos or Las Flautas. I remember hanging out with my cousins at the local tianguis, shopping for some pirated PS2 games and grabbing al pastor tacos and agua de jamaica when our stomachs grumbled. In Los Angeles, my mom would consistently cook up fantastic dishes like albondigas, flautas, tacos de salpicon, and more. Having had such a variety of Mexican food growing up, my palette was trained in spotting any imposters.

The amazing childhood memories of eating flautas at… Las Flautas

But growing up in Los Angeles, Mexican-American food was a big part of my diet too. When we weren’t eating in, my family would like to go out, with one of our favorite spots being Hacienda Del Rey. The restaurant had been in the neighborhood since the 70s, run by Mexican-Americans but catering to the mostly white crowd of west Los Angeles where I grew up. So naturally, the food was completely inauthentic. You’d chow down on fajitas and salty margaritas in a dimly lit room with antique lights and an aquarium for some reason.

Although the food was fake, it was a distinctly Angeleno experience, one that is a testament to the long and tumultuous history Mexicans and Mexican-Americans have had in the city. Many Mexican restaurant owners in the 1900s were forced to rebrand their food as “Spanish” in order to circumvent racial biases and a white population uncomfortable with the existing Mexican population (hence why it’s Spanish Rice and not arroz a la Mexicana). As generations of Mexicans immigrated to Southern California after World War II, business owners began integrating their parent’s cuisine with their children’s future taste buds, resulting in restaurants like George’s Burger Stand, where you can get a quesadilla along with your burger.

Nostalgia at Hacienda de Rey gives that extra flavor

Fast forward to my time in San Francisco, and my diet has consisted of mostly trying to find real Mexican food. Like any millennial, I am driven by the constant search for authentic experiences, meaning you won’t find me in some Mexican place serving burgers. That is until I had a bite at Gallardo’s.

So where did that enjoyment come from? Sure I definitely got a hit of nostalgia, remembering the greasy Mexican-American food I had growing up. But there was something more. Compared to Los Angeles, San Francisco’s Mexican population is tiny, consisting of only 15% of the population compared to LA’s 48%. Weirdly enough eating Gallardo’s reminded me of that. Los Angeles’s massive Mexican population means you’ll find a plethora of options, from 50-year-old Mexican-American culinary institutions to more recent and authentic arrivals.

“Real” Mexican food will always be my preference and there is nothing that can compare to what I have had in Ciudad Satelite and Mexico City. But eating at Gallardo’s reminded me that I value my Angeleno Mexican-American roots just as much as my chilango heritage. A greasy bean and cheese smothered fajita plate was the perfect reminder.