San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
The Bay Area’s taco queen is back (and on wheels)
Beautiful tortillas, smoky beef and powerful salsas at Mama Cuca
My favorite taco in the Bay Area is technically free. It isn’t even on the menu.
Consisting of only beans and a freshly made flour tortilla, it’s a botana (snack) that Tacos Mama Cuca owner Maria Marquez often gifts to guests. (You may need to ask for it.) Really, it’s an invitation, welcoming you to her slice of Sonora, Mexico, akin to a mother’s apapacho (warm soulful embrace).
The taco’s simplicity gives you a chance to appreciate Marquez’s masterful tortillas. Each one is a revelation meticulously made by hand: translucent and pliable, yet sturdy enough to withstand fillings. The refried beans — made with chorizo, chipotle and lard — prime you for the flavor journey you’re about to embark on.
As far as I’m concerned, Marquez is the Bay Area’s taco queen — even Los Angeles doesn’t have Sonoran tacos this good. Her taqueria was a pandemic-era sensation that became so popular it was shut down by the city of Oakland. But after an eightmonth break, she’s finally back for good.
Now a food truck parked in East Oakland, Tacos Mama Cuca goes to painstaking lengths to ensure that every taco makes an impact, as evidenced by best-inclass flour tortillas, the use of a charcoal grill and a truly stunning selection of salsas. Mama Cuca sets and demands a new standard of quality.
The taqueria is named after Marquez’s mother. Despite now being a thousand miles apart, the tradition of flour tortillas has become a tether between them.
Marquez learned the intuitive art of making flour tortillas by watching her mother. Her 10,000 hours started in middle school, when she was tasked with making them for her aunt, who sold food to local workers. She’d wake up at 5 a.m. to mix ingredients — salt, water, flour, lard — by hand, gently massaging the dough, rolling clumps into balls between her palms and flattening them into disks with a rolling pin.
Marquez and her husband, Juan Carlos Garcia, who handles the grill at Mama Cuca, grew up in a small Sonoran town called San Ignacio Río Muerto. Married in 2016, the two eventually moved to Oakland, where Garcia built houses and Marquez did the housekeeping. But when the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, she couldn’t find any work.
So she started selling tortillas to the public online and quickly found customers who, like her, longed for a taste of Sonora. She dreamed of opening the region’s first and only Sonoran-style taqueria, pairing her tortillas with smoke-kissed meats. In 2022, she debuted Tacos Mama Cuca, mostly operating from her home.
Her obvious talent and uncompromising dedication drew widespread attention, but that proved to be a problem. A viral social media video attracted Oakland city officials, who closed the home operation after just one year.
The couple started a crowdfunding campaign to purchase a truck. But it wasn’t enough.
Then one day Marquez received a call from the Villa family of Tacos Mi Reynita, a Tijuana-style taqueria in Oakland that faced similar growing pains. They connected her to a good deal on a truck. “They were essential,” said Marquez.
Tacos Mama Cuca opened in its new, fully permitted format in February. It shares space in a food truck park with a few other businesses selling grilled chicken and assorted snacks. Seating is limited to communal tables under a canopy. It’s a small operation with an admirable amount of heart.
When you arrive, you’ll see Garcia twirl sheets of beef, bright red marinated pork steaks and tangled tripas (intestines) as they sizzle over glowing coals. A constrained menu with only a few fillings allows Marquez to focus on quality.
The taco yaqui ($12) is doubled-sized and perfect, featuring a cheesy, grilled Anaheim pepper, beans and your meat of choice (go with asada). It is a whole meal unto itself, a volley of mesquite smoke and spice that doesn’t let up until the end. Standard tacos ($5), on the other hand, are ideal for those who seek purer flavors. Opt for asada or tripas, which are delightfully crunchy and full of enticing charred aromas.
For those desiring more crunch, seek out the sumptuous chorreada ($11), a corn tostada brushed with asientos (lard), cheese, beans and meat.
The most eye-catching item is
the riceless bacon-wrapped burrito ($17), the only dish that uses commercially produced tortillas. Marquez rolls up the burrito, then traces it with strips of bacon before searing it on a flattop. By no means is it bad, but the novelty of the bacon distracts from the overall experience. I suggest omitting the extra swine.
It’s a rarity to find a taqueria
in the Bay Area that pays such close attention to the necessity of salsas, which can make or break the experience. Mama Cuca’s salsa bar is a carnival of spice. There’s a mild avocado sauce, a searingly hot one made with habaneros and three molcajete salsas, from sweet to moderate to hot. The latter are the most flavorful, featuring ingredients fire-roasted by Garcia. The pineapple molcajete salsa, for example, proves the power of a great salsa by supplying al pastor with the tangy sweetness we so often associate with the marinated pork.
Two years ago, the Bay Area’s taco landscape was nowhere near as mature as the one we have today. When I first spoke to Marquez, I left with the impression that she’s fueled by dreams. Dreams so powerful that they escape her head and become reality. The truck is her latest, and despite its small stature, it’s heavy with meaning.
“It represents our love, our effort and all the struggles we’ve overcome,” she said.