Standards.

Our namesake taco. Prime brisket, cooked for fourteen to sixteen hours, with dark, caramelized bark. Orange BBQ brings sweetness, avocado aioli adds richness, pickled onion cuts through. Order one taco. Make it this.

This one is not shy. Seasoned chicken, bacon, ranch, basil aioli and Monterey Jack, layered on purpose. Radish, microgreens, dill and lemon zest keep all that richness in check. Every element has a job, and none of them is heat.

Barbacoa is no place to get clever. Angus beef chuck, slow-cooked for eight hours with chipotle in adobo. Red onion and fresh cilantro on top. That’s the whole list. The restraint is the technique.

Buffalo and ranch is American comfort. The ginger fried rice underneath is Chinese, and it takes forty-five minutes. Putting them in one tortilla is this kitchen’s whole argument: respect both, then let them collide.

Cauliflower is the point, not the substitute. Battered in gluten-free flour, then tossed in spicy orange sauce with a sambal edge. We don’t make a vegetable taco to be polite about it.

Eggplant takes whatever you give it. We give it plenty: toasted peppercorn, soy and sriracha. Peanut lime sauce rounds the heat. Cabbage and peanuts bring crunch; green onion and sesame finish the job. All plants. Nothing missing.

Prime brisket folded into toasted tortillas with Monterey Jack, pressed until the cheese gives. You choose the sauce: Orange BBQ, ranch or jalapeño salsa. Bigger than a taco, and meant to be.

Seasoned chicken and Monterey Jack in toasted tortillas, pressed until the cheese gives. You choose the sauce: Orange BBQ, ranch or jalapeño salsa. Simple on purpose.

No tortilla. That’s the point. We make our green curry paste: chilies, galangal, lemongrass, cilantro root. Then coconut, tender chicken, bamboo shoots, Thai basil, mint and lime. Jasmine rice alongside. Same respect, bigger map.

Wild-caught jumbo shrimp, wok-fired with fresh vegetables in our house five spice salt & pepper sauce, jasmine rice

Soba served cold, the way it eats best on a Houston afternoon. Cucumber, bok choy, snow peas and yellow pepper for snap, then dill, cilantro and mint all at once. Lime, soy and fish sauce in the dressing, a touch sweet, sambal underneath.

Light, and wide awake. Lettuce, purple cabbage, carrot, red onion and cilantro, all cold and crisp. The dressing is rice vinegar and soy, sesame oil and olive oil, ginger and garlic, rounded with a little honey.

A salad you can spot from across the counter. Lettuce, cucumber, purple cabbage, yellow pepper, carrot and radish, every one raw, cold and cut for crunch. Then ranch, cool and creamy, bringing a little of everything into each forkful.

Red salsa is the one every table expects, so it has to be right. Tomatoes, garlic, onion and lime, seasoned and blended loose enough to spoon. Made for chips.

Queso is a promise of comfort, and this one keeps it. Monterey Jack and sharp cheddar melted smooth with butter and milk, chipotle in adobo for slow warmth, a little tang to keep it lively. Thick enough to stay on a chip, every time.

Corn salsa is about texture first. Sweet corn, jalapeño, red onion and cilantro, cut small so every spoonful gets some of each. Lime keeps it bright. The cool side of the table.

Chips are one of the few things we do not make. We chose a sturdy one that holds up, and spend our time on what goes on it: salsa roja, corn salsa or queso, or all three.

Three cookies on one buttery, toffee-studded dough. Orange cranberry gets zest, juice and dried cranberry, chocolate chip goes deep with semi-sweet chips, sugar keeps it simple. Each one crisp at the edge, soft in the middle.

Two shots of single-origin Costa Rica espresso, then hot filtered water, so the coffee comes through clear instead of short and sharp. Black by default. Add milk, a syrup or another shot at the counter.

The classic thirds: single-origin Costa Rica espresso pulled with filtered water, steamed milk and a deep layer of foam. Lighter than a latte, more coffee showing. Add a syrup or a shot at the counter.

Cortado means cut: single-origin Costa Rica espresso, pulled with filtered water, softened with about the same amount of steamed milk and very little foam. The strongest of the milk drinks.

No coffee in this one. Chocolate and steamed milk, made to order and served hot. For the table that came for tacos and stayed for dessert.

Single-origin Costa Rica espresso, pulled with filtered water, under a generous pour of steamed milk and a fine microfoam. The milkiest of the coffees. Add a syrup or another shot at the counter.