Today, Tortas

Warning: If you read this, you’re probably going to want to get your hands on one of South Philly Barbacoa’s tortas. My apologies in advance -- you’ll have to settle for their just-as-stellar tacos on the weekends. The owners stopped making their tortas on the weekdays because they wanted more time for life, outside the restaurant… and we really can’t blame them for that.

South Philly Barbacoa was listed as one of Bon Appétit’s top 10 new restaurants this summer. The tiny taco and torta spot is busier these days – it was especially bustling the week after Bon Appétit published their list, when I met a few friends there for lunch.

I took the opportunity to talk lunch with James, a teacher at Philadelphia Electrical and Technical Charter School (and also a friend of a friend). During his last week of summer vacation, he made his first trip to South Philly Barbacoa.

The feeling of the place is somewhere between a home kitchen and a restaurant. Paper napkins are stuffed in dried gourds that sit next to flower bouquets on each table. There’s an old-school coca cola drink cooler stocked with lemonade, strawberry lemonade, and free bottles of water. We noticed a lone copy of the Bon Appétit summer issue (with their #6 listing) stashed behind the cooler, clearly an afterthought.

From his seat near the window, James had a view of co-owner Cristina Martinez slicing bread for tortas and stirring big pots of simmering beans and albóndigas (Mexican meatballs, typically made with beef or pork).

Martinez’s husband and co-owner Ben Miller came over to our table to tell us the day’s menu. He ran through a list of tortas (their former weekday-only sandwiches): potato chorizo, chicken with mole poblano, albóndigas with salsa verde, and double-cream queso fresco with avocado and refried beans. James ordered the potato chorizo torta and a watermelon agua fresca.

He says his typical lunch is pretty basic during the school year. If he packs a lunch, it’s a sandwich with lunchmeat, cheese, and mayo. No lettuce, no tomato.  “I mean like the basic,” he says. Sometimes he pops next door to grab a sandwich at CVS, or gets something from a nearby food truck. He never eats in the cafeteria. “From what I’ve heard from the kids, it’s not the best,” he says. (I bet you’re not surprised… isn’t it tragic that bad school lunch food is so normal?)

James is happy to have fourth period lunch this year, which means he’ll eat at 11:15 (unless he has to grade papers or talk with students during lunchtime, in which case he’ll wait until dismissal at 2:12). “Some of my coworkers eat lunch at 10:30am,” he says. Those teachers – and students – are stuck in the cafeteria basically just after breakfast and left with a long stretch to last until school is over.

But at Barbacoa, James was able to enjoy his torta right in the middle of the day, without any academic distractions. Soft potatoes smothered in the spicy juices of the chorizo, topped with tomato and avocado and smashed into the fresh torta bread Cristina used to make each week. (I only know this because I tried a bite. When I asked James what was in it, he said, “I have no idea, I just ate it.” He was hungry and it was just too good to slow down.)

Next week he’ll be back in the classroom, teaching ninth-grade English. He says he’s strict with the kids at first, which is hard to imagine if you’ve met the enthusiastic, quick-to-smile guy outside of school. Like in a Mexican restaurant, for example, where he sipped bright pink watermelon juice with and bobbed his head to the latin music. “I gotta get this Pandora station,” he said as we stood up to leave. “I’ve been jammin’ out this whole time!”

Just give him some time, ninth graders; he’ll lighten up as the year goes on.