Evening Edge

Soft or crunchy?

If you say "crunchy," then you probably don't think a taco is a taco unless it tastes like corn chips, sings a satisfying song of "kiiiiraaaaackkk," and falls into pieces in your lap.

Juan Monino (ENLARGE)

Soft tacos are taking Atlanta by storm.

(ENLARGE)

Hard taco

From our Recipe File Spicy Fish Tacos Chicken Tacos 4 more taco recipes John Kessler writes food features and a column about food and more for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution E-mail John Kessler Recent Kessler columns Your fool-proof checklist for Thanksgiving  Hours of low-temperature cooking yield tender, juicy meat  Different things to sample on my new dining menu         More John Kessler Related: John Kessler's blog: Food & More John Kessler's recipes Meridith Ford Goldman's Table Talk Jeanne Besser's Feeding Frenzy Evening Edge Atlanta Restaurant reviews and search Recipes from Atlanta restaurants Favorite Atlanta recipes

If you say "soft," join the crowd.

We have apparently entered the golden age of the soft taco, because this Mexican food unit, in all its variations and guises, is everywhere.

Start with taquerias, which are the new "it" neighborhood restaurant. Places like Pure Taqueria in Alpharetta, Lime Taqueria in Smyrna and El Tesoro in Decatur start with an array of tacos as the basic building blocks, add on some other dishes, appropriate libation, and call it a day.

The latter has taken Decatur by storm, with kids running round the fenced-in front yard like ionized particles. Most diners seem to be enjoying an assortment of Mexican street tacos (with stuffings that range from duck to tofu) and exploring the margarita menu.

But tacos have wriggled free of their ethnic straitjacket and entered the mainstream. Looking over the 100 finalists in last week's Pillsbury Bake-Off, a good tenth of the winners were variations on the theme.

One interesting linguistic note: Crunchy-shelled contenders — such as Buffalo Chicken Salad Tacos With Pineapple Salsa — were indeed called "tacos." But once the contestants switched to soft flour tortillas, they prepared "wraps." Hence, Thai-style Mexican Chicken Wraps. ¡Viva Siam!

Fast-food restaurants also have embraced the soft taco — and also refuse to call it by its name. McDonald's serves Snack Wraps, while Wendy's has Go Wraps. I'll admit to eating a Spicy Chicken Go Wrap in the Phoenix airport recently, when the choice was between that and my arm. It wasn't bad and, better yet, it wasn't huge.

That is the pleasure of soft tacos, right? You can have one, à la real street food, to curb your appetite. You can have two with a side dish and call it a meal. Or you can have four for a stuff-your-face, omigod-this-tastes-good pig out session. There's nothing like a taco, right?

I eat most of my tacos at home these days, as I've discovered that corn tortillas never go bad and just about anything can be taco-fied.

Here are my tips for having a great taco dinner at home:

• Start with corn tortillas. The shelf-stable kind you'll find stacked and wrapped in paper at a store with a good Mexican food department readily trumps the ones in the plastic pouch in the dairy section. The former will be more tender, with discernible layers in the dough. They also taste more like corn.

• Mmm ... meat. I love eating vegetarian meals, but I've never had a veggie taco that didn't taste like a bag of squish. I also think you need meat with a certain chopped-shreddy texture. (Tacos made with grilled and cubed meat seem too ladies' magazine to me.) You can get this from a chopped rotisserie chicken, barbecued pork or some of that pre-fab pot roast.

You can also wrap a well-seasoned pork tenderloin in heavy aluminum foil and slow roast it at 275 for a couple of hours. We had some glorious tacos the other night when I slow roasted a big hunk of lamb shoulder until all the fat melted away. After about three hours in the oven, that lamb yielded every iota of its will like an interrogation subject.

• One killer salsa — whether from a jar or homemade. If homemade, start with some minced hot serrano or jalapeño peppers, diced red onion, salt and lime juice. Then add whatever primary ingredient you're in the mood for; in our house that usually means avocado, tomato, mango or some combination of the three.

• Something green. Finely chopped iceberg lettuce is never not welcome in a taco. Arugula can be revelatory. A little cilantro or basil pops with flavor if you sprinkle it on top rather than blend it into the salsa.

• Cheese. I have curmudgeonly feelings about cheese in tacos. I think a little strip of fresh queso blanco, milk feta or milky mozzarella can be brilliant in a taco. Unmelted shredded "Mexican cheese" is an abomination that coats your mouth with chalk and should never sully a good taco.

Not a soft taco, that is. If you have a crunchy taco filled with taco-seasoned hamburger, lettuce and tomato then, well, you have to have cheese.

What's your favorite way to prepare tacos?