Drunkboy Tacos

I've been a vegetarian for over 8 years and always seem to keep running into the basic cheese and veggie or mushroom tacos. Total lack of creativity. Well, not this place! I ordered the vegan taco here, hands down best vegan taco I've ever had. Tons of flavor, it was cooked like it actually wanted to be eaten and the salsa was on point! Finally a taco spot that show some love to us vegan/vegetarians that go beyond grilled mushrooms and sadness. I'll definitely be back!

I've eaten at a lot of taco spots in Austin, and El Borracho is definitely one of the best! The menu is minimal, yet perfected—every taco is crafted with care, bursting with unique flavors. The Vega Amiga is one of the best tacos I’ve ever had and I’m not even vegetarian. What really sets this taco truck apart is the attention to detail. The sauces are homemade, each with its own unique kick, and the tortillas are soft, warm, and clearly fresh. The portions are generous, and the prices are more than fair for the quality you're getting. The service is fast, friendly, and always comes with a smile. Whether you're grabbing a quick dinner or satisfying late-night cravings, this taco truck is a must-visit. If you haven’t tried it yet, do yourself a favor and track either of their locations down. You won't regret it!

Excellent tacos. Good ingredients, fair price, fast friendly service. And extra added bonus it’s inside the amazing Hotel Vegas. You can’t sleep there but you sure can have a good time

The best vegan tacos, hands down. I'll be thinking about them when I go to bed tonight. Could not recommend them enough.

Tacos were amazing! I’m a bit picky about tacos and these blew my mind 🤯🌮

Friendly customer service, and the vegan tacos are top notch. I tried the quesadilla as well and it was fire! Definitely will be back

Had two of the vegan tacos for brunch. They seemed to be well prepared. Tacos had good flavor. Highly recommend the vegan options. They use Meati mushroom root as the vegan protein which is soy and gluten-free for anyone who needs to know.

No frills, no marketing fairy dust—just a taco truck parked like a prophet on the edge of the night, slinging soul by the tortilla. The carnitas? A greasy love letter from the pork gods, dripping down your wrist like a confession. Salsa that slaps, tortillas with the charred fingerprints of someone who gives a damn. You don’t eat here, you surrender. Bourdain would’ve lit a smoke, nodded once, and said, “This is it.” The kind of place that reminds you flavor isn’t found in a white tablecloth—it’s found curbside, under flickering lights, where hunger meets poetry.