El Tapatio: Tacos al Pastor, Pollo al Carbón, and the American Dream

When I walk into El Tapatío on a Thursday afternoon, the taquería sits in relative silence. A single group of five patrons occupies a corner booth, quietly eating camarones in red sauce and sipping Modelo, lime wedges dusted in chile powder peeking out from the tops of their glass bottles. They have just come off the clock, still dressed in workwear and construction gear while enjoying their meal together.

At first glance, El Tapatío doesn’t seem like anything remarkable. Just a taco truck, all grown up. The restaurant sits on an oddly-shaped parking lot near the intersection of Nolensville and Haywood in the heart of Nashville’s international community. The operation consists of a truck, a parking lot, a black-barrel smoker, and a wooden, shed-like main building, which occupies a somewhat inconvenient location on the lot, forcing cars to drive in close quarters. Inside, the building’s white and yellow paint has begun to chip in places.

Nevertheless, this place matters in Nashville. El Tapatío not only provides fantastic late night tacos, but also serves as a de facto community center and hub for Mexican-Americans in Nashville. El Tapatío exists as a reminder of traditions back home in the midst of our ever-changing city. And El Tapatío's origins tell a classic American Dream tale that would be tough to replicate in modern times.

María Lépez is the woman responsible. While El Tapatío has no official bosses, María has the aura of someone in charge. Tall, warm, and commanding, María rarely raises her voice, but her words still project to every corner of the restaurant. María opened El Tapatío 15 years ago with four relatives. All five originally hail from La Barca and Jesús María, small towns in the Mexican state of Jalisco. Jalisco’s capital city, Guadalajara, is one of México’s cultural jewels. “Tapatío” is a term that refers to a Guadalajara native.

“I moved to Nashville with $60 in my bag and nothing else,” María says.“$60!” she repeats, translating into English for emphasis.

After years of working two jobs, María pooled her savings with her brother-in-law, breaking ground on El Tapatío in its current location in 2003. The restaurant started off as a truck in a parking lot, with María waitressing cars beneath snow and hail. While she hustled to get El Tapatio off the ground, María continued to work a second job, after which she would head to El Tapatío, work until 3 a.m., sleep a few hours, and do it all over again.

El Tapatío grew slowly but surely, adding the building and its two climate-controlled porches. In 2006, María and her relatives opened up El Tapatío #2 -- a traditional brick-and-mortar shop -- a few miles north on Nolensville. Six months ago, they opened Chismes Café in Plaza Mariachi, which serves Mexican soups like menudo and pozole.

El Tapatío has always won over customers with two signature dishes that double as home-cooked Mexican staples: pollo al carbón (grilled chicken) and tacos al pastor (spicy pork tacos). Each dish uses a secret, house recipe unique to El Tapatío. María refuses to divulge any secrets, except that the restaurant cooks its pastor with grilled pineapple -- giving it the sweet finish that customers always notice -- and roasts its pollo al carbón over coals in the black-barrel smoker in the parking lot.

Though she tightly guards her pastor and pollo dishes, María is quick to share the secret ingredient in El Tapatío's recipe for success: family. María and her family have unquestionably made it in America, but they have never tried to separate themselves from fellow immigrant families who haven't found as many opportunities here. They never hesitate to invite the community into their kitchen.

“Our priority is being friendly with the people,” María says. “I remember when we opened, customers would bring their babies. Those kids were two or three-years old. Now, those babies are all grown up! Now, when they come here, they bring their own boyfriends and girlfriends." Perhaps for that reason, every night at El Tapatío feels like a celebration. At peak hours nowadays -- which, María says, are pretty much all the time -- El Tapatio bustles. The restaurant shines brightest at night. From 10 p.m. to 3 a.m., the building overflows with friends and family. Lively Spanish and the scents of grilled chicken and pastor crackle through the air. The restaurant’s booths provide a perfect setting for large groups, with some tables offering standing room only as people congregate around community and food. Conspicuous cars like Escalades and GMC Denalis park at sometimes hazardous angles in the lot, bumping reggaeton while waiting for to-go orders. El Tapatío currently has more business than it can handle, and María says they will build additional seating this December.

But for now, the restaurant is calm. The construction workers continue to enjoy their shrimp and beer in affable silence. After a long day on the grind trying to make it in a new country, they can break bread with their friends and family, comfortable in a place that provides a piece of home.