RESTAURANT REVIEW: Dejarvis Taco

September 11, 2008 2:03 PM

| Print Story | E-Mail Story

Brandon Garcia

Heck heads south on 10th Street past Business 83, unsure of exactly where this place is.

Please, I pray, don't let it be El Caballo Ballo.

"Ah-ha!"

He takes a terrifying left in front of oncoming traffic into the parking lot of Dejarvis Taco. Thank you, God.

I drive by this building all the time but hadn't given it a good look since, apparently, the late ‘90s. The old-school stone facade stokes a vague nostalgia.

"I swear this was a Circle K, like, yesterday," I say.

We walk in. No candy shelves.

The one-room dining area is brightly lit and welcoming, complete with serape tablecloths encased in plastic. It's a livelier crowd than I would've expected for 8 p.m. on a Friday - young Spanish-speaking couples, lots of growing families with two or three toddlers.

I liken the place to an upscale Mike's Tacos, the place across the street from the Alaskan we headed for after last call (no more high school memories, I promise, though it turns out Dejarvis did indeed start out across the river from Hidalgo).

Sodas come in cans. A large sign up front advertises their extensive "Aguas de (blank)" beverage menu ($1.75 each refreshment).

We're tended to by Joanna, one of a trio of aproned waitresses briskly working the floor this evening. I'm too lazy to read the paper menu, so I tell Heck to get me whatever he gets. Chips and salsa arrive -- the bold flavor of guacamole in the verde sauce, which I usually skip, is just how I wanted this meal to start. My tongue starting to catch fire a bit, I chug Heck's agua de jamaica. Tastes like purple Kool-Aid to me.

Chance meetings seem to be another Dejarvis specialty. Heck's sister's fiancee's friend shows up soon after we finish the chips, happy to see his acquaintance-in-law. By my count that was the second or third

The food is taking forever. To kill time, I peruse the men's room and am bowled over by how spotless it is, even the urinals. Refreshed and less impatient, I return to the table a moment before Joanna sets down two orders of bistek tacos (a steal at $5 each). Laid out on the paper plate like a sunflower, the tacos are a hearty breed, packed thick with grilled onions, chives and large portions of cilantro. Throughout the meal I'm looking forward to having what I don't finish as leftovers. Heck beats me to the punch before we ask for the check. I withhold a tongue-lashing only because he's paying.

The cashier who hands us our change is no older than 12 and is already a pro. We head back out to the streets of McAllen, stuffed with proof that there's no need to cross a bridge if you want the flavor of Reynosa.

DEJARVIS TACOS