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Acapulco Grocery
- Nearest Transit:
-
Inwood - 207 St (A)
207 St (1)
215 St (1)
- Price Range:
-
$
- Accepts Credit Cards:
- No
2 reviews for Acapulco Grocery
2 reviews in English
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Review from Darren s.
New York, NY
6/19/2010
This is the 'IT' mexican grocery store where you can get all your basics and then some. Sauces, peppers, chorizo, tomatillos, cactus, corn husks, random baked good, scary technicolor candies are all there. I think they even sell mexican dvds in the back. They also have my favorite Jarritos drink in grapefruit flavor.
But guess what? They sell tacos and tamales too!!! Sometimes they run out of stuff by the afternoon so get there early. The best part is the salsa. Its not the chunky tomatoey kind. My best guess is smokey dried chilis forged in a volcano by aztec virgins to produce a lovely thin red salsa picante.
Little hole in the wall grocery/taqueria places have come and gone in uptown but this one has staying power. No burritos tho and there is no seating but what is love without sacrifices? -
Review from Paul W.
Manhattan, NY
9/1/2011 6 photos
Let me preface my ramblings with a disclosure that I'm not from California, I have not lived in California and I'm not even in regular contact with my friends in California. So I know absolutely nothing about Mexican food.
Noth.
Ing.
Now that I've got that off my chest, let me tell you that the tacos from Acapulco Grocery are pretty damn tasty. Better than most I've had (keeping in mind the disclosure in Paragraph 1).
I'd just got done with some banking at Chase across the street and was unlocking my bike when the faded sign beckoned to me:
Tacos. Tortas. Bienvenidos A Acapulco Grocery. Tacos. Tortas.
Upon entering the dim, narrow store, my expectations were somewhat nebulous. 'Buenas tardes,' chirped the teeny abuelita behind the counter. The greeting was echoed by a man in the back. How could they help me?, they enquired.
Why, tacos. Tacos, of course! Lengua, por favor. And, yes, al pastor, too.
The man went to work. A dab of this, a pinch of that, a roll of another. The results went into a diminutive brown paper bag, not very impressive, until it settled in my hand.
Warm, supple, with a nice heft.
Outside, in the bright sunshine, I ripped the bag open to reveal two very fine looking tacos. And the taste? Succulent morsels of meat with onions and cilantro, cradled in pliantly fresh corn tortillas. With a squeeze of lime and a dash of smoky salsa. Oh yeah.
You may think this is all much ado about tacos. But please do not forget. I am not from California. I have not lived in California. I'm not even in regular contact with my friends in California.
All I have are my taste buds, my rose-coloured glasses and my belief in these magical, mythical things they call tacos.
