Don Pedro: Cult Tacos

On any given day, seemingly at any given time, you can drive by a humble taco shop on Buford Highway and find it packed. Cars might be parked askew, lines might be forming at the door. The sign simply says “Tacos, 99 Cents.”

Don Pedro’s menu boasts that it serves “Real Mexican Food.” This is not Tex-Mex. This is not a place with fake palm trees and margaritas. This is a place for tacos: tongue tacos, BBQ tacos, spicy pork tacos, steak tacos. 

Each taco comes with a minimalist topping of diced raw onion and a little chopped fresh cilantro—we liked that the flourish had a definite flavor but wasn’t too much. It was bold, but perfectly placed. 

Tacos come double wrapped: the meat and veggie is generously piled inside two greasy, bubbly warmed tortillas. This is a key point. Not one of our tacos bit the dust, buckling under that weight of the toppings. 

The beef tongue came simply seasoned, not overly spiced, in small chunks of dark meat. Of two friends, one found the beef tongue to be tender and juicy, not tough or chewy as is the danger here. The other was, understandably, a bit freaked out.

The barbeque wasn’t a saucy, smoky number as one might expect. Instead, it was the only taco we had with a spicy kick. It makes a nice counterpoint to the other tacos on the menu. 

My taco eaters ultimately voted the pork and steak tacos as the house favorites. The steak was simply presented, mild and tender, while the pork was shredded a la a pulled pork sandwich. Dress them up with one of three homemade salsas on hand (a vinegary bright chili, a smoky chipotle or a tart verde) and think about the fact that you are spending about as much as you would at Taco Bell. But eating so much better. 

The best part is the incredibly firey side item that they serve up with each order of tacos. I’ve heard it described as escabeche though a friend who is a chef has another name for it. Essentially, halved jalapenos are pickled with carrots and onions in a tart lime juice. Throw these veggies on your taco, or just eat them between bites, for a puckery kick that clears the palette—and the sinuses. 

Editor's note: Susan McNabb contributed to eating, er, reporting for this article.