Mike’s Red Tacos seeks best of both tortillas

The hashtag, painted across the top of the truck, reads #worldsbestbirria. It doesn’t beg, it insists on a comparison with the best you’ve had. It doesn’t matter all that much whether the boast rings true, because it’s at least tasty enough to make you wonder.

The nation, at least, does seem to be paying attention to such things. San Diego’s far from the only city to experience a boom of Tijuana-style beef birria. The guisado is up there trailing only hot chicken as the winning comfort food of the pandemic. Whether fried chicken or tacos, it’s as though everyone in isolation abruptly decided they prefer their favorite foods to be red.

And I’m getting the sense Mike’s Red Tacos has hit upon this winning formula. Open Saturdays only, the food truck sets up in the parking lot beside what used to be the Italian restaurant Old Trieste (2335 Morena Boulevard, Bay Park). And it provides enough picnic table and high top seating to handle a steady stream of customers rolling in from far points of the city.

Red tacos are so called for the hue of tortillas dipped in the chili spiced birria consomé, and “red taco” named restaurants have sprung up from New York to L.A. to cash in on the internet’s thirst for red quesabirria tacos, soaked in spice and dripping with melted cheese. And that sure makes sense. I’m only a couple hours removed from eating one, and just thinking about it makes me desire more.

Mike’s offers red tacos with ($3.99) or without ($3.49) cheese, turns its birria into ramen ($8.99), and presses cheese and beef between corn tortillas to make mulitas ($4.99). But where Mike’s really stands out among red taco joints is its creation of the Crunchstack ($9.99).

If that name reminds you of something conjured by the test kitchen geniuses of Taco Bell, you’re not far off. The Bell used to do something called a Crunchwrap, which saw a crunchy beef tostada folded neatly inside a large flour tortilla. The Crunchstack likewise sandwiches Mike’s birria between crispy, consomé-dipped corn tortillas, then wraps it all inside a flour tortilla, with plenty of cheese.

Where the mulita resembles a beefy grilled cheese, the Crunchstack is like a mulita cooked cooked inside a quesadilla. I ordered it for the novelty, but it’s pretty tough to hate any combination of beef, cheese, and tortilla.

Is it hashtag world’s best? It’ll do until the next one. If we’re truly in the midst of a golden age of red tacos, I’ve got loads of messy eating ahead.