Loco Pez 2401 E. Norris St. (267) 886–8061
Don't Miss: Gabacho Taco, Camarones Taco, Pez Taco Skip: Soy Chorizo, The Beer List
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The first time I walked by Loco Pez, the only thing I noticed was the old–school menu board above the bar. Its black, snap–on letters were backlit by stale yellow bulbs, and read, “Cash only, bitches.” I had no clue what I was missing until I stopped in.
The restaurant offers a sharp contrast from the maze of sleepy Fishtown blocks surrounding it and is only a short walk from the Berks station on the Market–Frankford line. Inside, retro pop music blares, a holographic portrait of Jesus peeks out from behind the front door and a foot–tall Buddha figure scuba dives in a fish tank behind the bar.
The hokey, 70s–era decor no doubt makes for a fun environment, but mercifully, the camp ends there. The menu is mostly gimmick–free, and the diverse clientele is without frills, lacking the hip posturing that’s readily available a stone’s throw to the south.
Most people here sip beer from an uninspired list where everything seems a buck too expensive ($5 for a Sol, really?), but a few go for neon–colored cocktails. In my Bel Air, saccharine orange soda overpowered all else, but then again I’m not one to complain when a $7 drink has a good three shots of tequila.
Happily, the food is more successful across the board. The menu offers Mexican staples a la carte as well as a few American classics like hot dogs and waffle fries — all more sophisticated than they initially seem. The shrimp taco, for instance, sports perfectly fried, deeply–seasoned specimens, with sour cream and slaw that draw your attention. Their burrito ($9) offers the ideal ratio of tender chicken to tangy cheese. Guacamole ($7.50) tastes fresh as anything, and though it could a bit more salt (what guacamole couldn’t?), it’s a hell of a portion for its price.
But back to the tacos ($1.75–$2.50), for which Loco Pez is rightfully best known. At their price, they’re a deal, but when the restaurant tweets on a whim that they’ll be $1 all night (as is known to happen every few weeks), they’re a serious steal. That’s especially true when the fish taco boasts a filet as blissfully moist as this one, or when the chorizo and potato taco so deftly balances salt and fat (even if its vegetarian counterpart, the soy chorizo, is dry and uninspired).
The highlight taco, though, is decidedly the least Mexican. It’s the Gabacho Taco, a fierce hard–sheller with pungent ground beef and a mess of sour cream and cheese, decadent and painstakingly designed to fall apart right on the last bite. It’s a hell of a reason to head to Fishtown — as if the trippy 70s living room decor weren’t enough
