Always Go To The Place With Guts On The Menu
'Nose-to-Tail' isn't buzzword laden marketing in Mexican cuisine. It's the whole fucking point
I am, it is safe to say, overfuckingwhelmed.
It is my first full day in Los Angeles. The morning was spent inside the windowless function room of downtown’s JW Marriott hotel, interviewing a procession of men and women who, if the mood struck, could pin me to the carpet and kick me in the head with my own feet.
I’m in Southern California for WrestleMania week, but it is not the travelling circus of WWE superstars or the quite startling realisation that the average price of a pint in the City of Angels is about 12 quid that is causing me such consternation. It is the plethora of body parts and internal organs being sold to me from above in the belly of LA’s Grand Central Market.
‘Brains’ and ‘Guts’ are not ordinarily splayed across a menu unless an unsuspecting Mafia capo is taking one to the dome as they agonise over whether to have the clams or the meatballs. But at Roast To Go, there they are, ‘Sesos’ and ‘Tripa’ sitting comfortably alongside the more universally appreciated likes of carnitas, pollo, birria and pescado.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Macaroni & Gravy to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.