Ryan M.
Yelp
For far too long, San Antonio has been synonymous with Tex-Mex, which in some circles is the gastronomic equivalent of a slur. Much of the ire directed at the term is justified; heaping portions of gloopy processed yellow cheese, a preponderance of greasy fried items, and an overall air of indifference (one-note flavors and textures, sloppy plating) have all contributed to its reputation as lower-tier cuisine catering to the fattest city in America. When done well, however, Tex-Mex can be something worth celebrating. Locals know to avoid the overpriced tourist traps and corporate establishments catering to gringos, but many out-of-towners remain ignorant of San Antonio's thriving culinary scene (we have much more to offer than cheese enchiladas) or even the thousands of independent mom-and-pop Tex-Mex joints that serve delicious, homemade regional favorites with love. If you're looking for the latter, simply throw a dart at a map of San Antonio or take my recommendation and try Tia's Taco Hut, a quaint, no-frills eatery in Leon Valley that does Tex-Mex the right way.
Alas, I have yet to visit Tia's Taco Hut for lunch or dinner service, so this review will focus exclusively on breakfast. Huevos rancheros is my litmus test for any Tex-Mex breakfast; if a kitchen can execute a simple plate like huevos rancheros, then it likely excels in other areas as well. Tia's rendition was a hit with a zesty, slightly chunky sauce atop two sunny side up eggs, the only option as far as this gastronome is concerned. Sides included homemade flour tortillas, crispy potato wedges a la Mexicana (jalapenos, onions, bell peppers) and rich, full-flavored refried beans tasting faintly of pork rinds (a sign of lard in the recipe -- a good thing).
A heaping barbacoa breakfast plate was even better, with roughly eight ounces of moist, all-meat (or so they claim -- I don't mind eating lips and eyeballs) barbacoa, potatoes fried with chorizo (just enough grease to add flavor), two eggs, and a side of jalapeno-centric pico de gallo. My request for lime wedges was met with a knowing smile as if to say, "For a white boy, you sure know how to eat!" Indeed I do!
Tia's clientele is a diverse lot of blue and white collar types, presumably locals passing by on their morning commute. On multiple occasions, I've witnessed several of Leon Valley's finest (and plumpest) gorging themselves at Tia's, so I assume management offers a discount for first responders. Of course, cops know good food, so perhaps they dine there simply because they enjoy it.
This review is not as verbose as many of my others*; we all know how Tex-Mex should taste, so a longwinded review serves little purpose. In a city where this type of food is so ubiquitous (and often done poorly), however, a solid joint like Tia's deserves at least a considerate, detailed write up. The next time you find yourself craving a hearty, inexpensive breakfast in Leon Valley, look no further than the nondescript strip center at the corner of Bandera and Huebner. I look forward to trying the scrumptious looking tortas that grace Tia's lunch and dinner menus.
*For those who deem my reviews overly academic, I offer this refutation: Pedantic, prescriptive grammatical constructions -- albeit anomalous and idiosyncratic in canonical elocution -- are not necessarily indicative of circumlocution, for I am not a gasconade but a magnanimous sesquipedalian. So there.
