So this is the kind of post that I’d love to have found when researching a trip to this fantastic city, a place that I love more with every I visit. Cool stuff, great food, tacos, more tacos, interesting things to do, cool neighborhoods and of course dive bars with fetid character and always containing great characters.

I typically avoid touristy stuff, or I might take a peak at certain things on my first visit to a city, like in L.A., on my first visit, sure, I went to see the Santa Monica Pier, I took that requisite drive up the coast into Malibu, even schlepped two or three blocks along the Hollywood Walk of Fame (I was already on my way to The Frolic Room, a classic Hollywood dive bar that happened to be on the Boulevard) and I have to admit, it was cool, looking down and seeing the MOTLEY CRUE star with some drunk passed out next to it. On brand as the kids say. I’ve never visited one of the movie studios, not that I wouldn’t, just not very high on my priority list. But let’s get back to tacos.

La Cañada

3131 W. Pico Blvd. Los Angeles (behind the car wash) [MAP]

Listen, I really, like really, love tacos. I know, I know, everyone likes tacos, but for me, I swear, it’s different. I try to eat them daily and if I lived in this city, I could easily accomplish that goal. I’d probably weigh a lot more than I do now, but such things pay no mind in a fantasy.

I swerved at the last second to make the turn into La Cañada, after spotting the tiny little red and yellow structure tucked behind the Pico Car Wash and Smog Check. I smelled smoke and quickly ordered a few tacos. That charcoal smell rewired my brain and directed it to order a carne asada taco instead of my standard pork trifecta of carnitas, al pastor & chorizo. I swapped out the taco carnitas and it led to good things. 

Why was it called La Cañada? I can’t imagine. Why did I stop here? With tacos in L.A., well anywhere really, the little, divey-looking places seem to always provide the best results. When it comes to tasty tacos La Cañada certainly proved the theory. Another intriguing aspect was that, just outside of the establishment there was some kind of grill (actually looked like one of those insulated, metal ice bins that you find behind a bar, but with a grill on top) that never with any meat on it when I was there (2 visits, on 2 consecutive days) but was continuously smoldering with the delicious smell of some kind of charcoal. This is what inspired me to opt out of one of my pork delights for a carne asada and I’m glad I did.

I ordered through the little offset window, having to reach my money around a protective corner to hand it to the man inside. I sipped a Jarritos Mandarina on one of three stools along a small counter and patiently awaited the delivery of my tacos that came promptly after just a few, short minutes.

The al pastor carved off a spit and garnished with a few pieces of fresh pineapple, the chorizo was of the ground variety, beautifully stained a deep red with annatto and the carne asada…those smoky, tender pieces of beef were garnished with a dark green smokey jalapeño salsa. All 3 were topped with the traditional cilantro and onions, then finished with a guac sauce. The plate was garnished with jalapeño escabeche (pickled jalapeños and carrots with Mexican oregano) and a couple sliced, raw radishes and cucumbers. The ingredients all piled high on a dual-stack of little 4” street taco corn tortillas. So much that the first bite spills much of the goodness out, to be scooped up lovingly with greasy fingers at the end.

I’m always tempted to divide the ingredients and make 2 little tacos out of each, but I just can’t wait that long to bite into them, no time for such madness, just need to take that spilling bite. Wow, just wow, and the thing is there are probably a thousand more taquerias all over this fantastic city. They are everywhere.

I went back, upon waking, the next morning, slightly hungover and drove there immediately and ordered 3 carne asada. This was my second visit in as many days and all 3 of the tacos I ordered were of this beef persuasion. I never do that, I’m a man that likes variety in my tacos. Why do the tacos taste so much better here? Lard in the tortillas? Proximity to Mexico? Multiple generations of Mexican families perfecting the salsas, marinades and techniques? Probably all those and many more, but whatever it is, they got it down.

Axl was right, this is Paradise City.