Review: Meatfree Mexican? 3 vegan taquerias tap into this growing genre

The last time I visited Mexico City, I conducted the greatest taco crawl of my life.

I feasted on dozens of al pastor tacos stuffed with orange-hued pork sliced thinly from towering trompos. I downed suadero tacos, packed with beef made meltingly tender from bubbling in a vat of fat with countless other animal parts. In fact, name the meaty filling — carnitas, cochinita pibil, longaniza, chorizo, tinga de pollo — and I probably ate it.

But I also indulged in tacos piled high with tender cubed zucchini, fluffy rice and creamy black beans, before moving on to ones with inky huitlacoche (a prized fungus that grows on corn). I went multiple times to Tacos Hola, where I ordered rajas con crema, strips of poblano chiles bathed in cream. My quesadilla refused to fold over at a trendy place in the Polanco neighborhood because it was filled with so many layers of fresh squash blossoms. While the meaty fillings definitely outnumbered the vegetable ones, there were options and they were tempting.

Most Chicago taquerias still have limited vegetable taco options, if they have any at all. Fortunately, three new vegan Mexican restaurants are hoping to change Chicago’s opinion on the genre. Don Bucio’s Taqueria, Penelope’s Vegan Taqueria and El Hongo Magico Taqueria all prove there is a serious demand for meat-free Mexican food in Chicago.

But should you care if you aren’t vegan or vegetarian? Certainly, many of us could eat less meat, and as I’ve explained, vegetable tacos can be startlingly good. But I do feel conflicted about places that simply substitute meat with fake meat, substances such as soy protein or seitan. While undoubtedly a blessing for vegans, who might miss the texture of meat, most of these simply taste like less delicious versions of the original.

Because of this, instead of dishing out stars, I’m scoring these on whether they appeal to just vegetarians or omnivores too. Let’s get started.

Don Bucio’s Taqueria

If you’re visiting Don Bucio’s, order the Baja taco. Made with portobellos fried in a tempura batter, the taco neatly balances the crispiness of the batter with the creaminess of the chipotle aioli. No one would confuse it for a real fish taco, where one bite instantly transports you 2,000 miles to Baja California, but it gets the job done.

The rest of the tacos vary wildly in quality. The asada taco might be made with “forest mushrooms,” but their flavor is mostly buried under a heavy-handed salsa macha. The al pastor taco decently replicates the flavor of the pork original, thanks to aioli spiked with chile and a slightly sweet pineapple escabeche. But since the base is made of white and black beans, yucca and potato, the filling quickly becomes gritty and dry, instead of juicy and tender. Even the chorizo, the easiest taco filling to make meat-free, failed to connect. Paired with overcooked potatoes, each bite was spongy.

[ Review: Bloom Plant Based Kitchen is firmly rooted in Wicker Park — and you’ll never miss the meat ]

The worst offender is the barbacoa. Made with jackfruit cooked in a guajillo salsa, it arrived as little more than a brown pile of spicy mush. Don Bucio’s makes no claim that its plant-based dishes are traditional, but calling this barbacoa seems nearly slanderous. As a forebear of barbecue, this pre-Hispanic process starts with ingredients wrapped in aromatic leaves (usually maguey, agave, avocado or banana) that are slowly smoked in a sealed chamber. (Traditionally, it was a pit dug into the ground, lined with charcoal and covered with dirt.) As José R. Ralat, Texas Monthly’s taco editor, recently wrote about barbacoa: “It’s is no simple thing. Rather, barbacoa is a laborious and time-intensive process — not just an ingredient.”

I genuinely believe one can make a terrific vegetable-based barbacoa taco, but you’d have to care about the original. Plus, where are the greens? The zucchini? Considering the good reviews of his other projects, especially Bloom Plant Based Kitchen, chef Rodolfo Cuadros obviously likes vegetables. It’s a shame more of them aren’t here.

Rating: For vegans only

2763 N. Milwaukee Ave., 773-770-9239, donbucios.com

Penelope’s Vegan Taqueria

You’ll also find jackfruit barbacoa at Penelope’s Vegan Taqueria in River North and Andersonville. Once again, the taco is a huge disappointment.

Fortunately, the other tacos fared much better. Chef Juan Lisandro Ramirez grew up in the Mexican state of Guanajuato, before moving to Back of the Yards at the age of 7. It wasn’t until he was in his 20s that he decided to try a vegetarian diet, though it did present some challenges. “It was a struggle going to my family gatherings,” Ramirez said. “They didn’t understand.” But after a visit to Mexico City, where he encountered restaurants like Por Siempre Vegana, a vegan taqueria, he realized the possibilities of meat-free Mexican food.

The carnitas taco, made with pulled oats, would never confuse anyone familiar with the indomitable Carnitas Uruapan, but it does have a bouncy texture that’s surprisingly close to the meat counterpart. The chorizo, made with soy, also does a credible job of replicating the crumply nature of the fresh sausage. It also helps that the potatoes actually hold their integrity.

I still prefer the tacos made with fresh vegetables. Best in class goes, once again, to the Baja taco. Instead of mushrooms, Penelope’s uses fried avocado slices, which makes for a nice textural balance to the crispy exterior. The cauliflower al pastor pairs thin slices of the vegetable with a guajillo salsa and sweet pineapple. The slight crunchiness of the cauliflower is nice, though it is on the spicy side.

Penelope’s offers a number of other dishes, including a fun cauliflower ceviche that’s refreshing and crunchy. I also tried the pozole verde, much thinner than the pork-based original but perfectly acceptable as a light vegetable soup.

Currently, Penelope’s has two locations, which is more than Ramirez ever thought possible. “It’s just weird,” Ramirez said. “Me coming from a small town in Mexico and growing up in Back of the Yards. It’s crazy to now have two restaurants.”

If you’re vegan and looking to scratch a specific itch, this place gives you a decent simulacrum of the real thing. Plus, there are enough options to please the omnivores too.

Rating: For vegans and the occasional omnivore

230 W. Chicago Ave., 312-265-0400; 5204 N. Clark St., 773-754-7192; penelopesvegantaqueria.com

El Hongo Magico Taqueria

No, El Hongo Magico Taqueria doesn’t sell those kinds of magic mushrooms. Though the name does mean The Magic Mushroom Taqueria in Spanish, owners Carlos Luna and Bernice Vargas-Luna chose the name because the fungi helped transform their lives.

Luna was dealing with gut and intestinal issues, while Vargas-Luna had diabetes. The two wondered if a vegan diet could help them feel better, and were so impressed with the results that they wondered if other people around the city would appreciate eating their food too.

Currently, the crew works out of a shared kitchen space, along with hosting regular pop-ups around the city, which is where I caught up with them one evening.

I had never heard of El Hongo Magico Taqueria until it won a Tribune Readers’ Choice Food Award for Most Impressive Cult Following. But it’s clear our readers know great food.

Start with the taco mágico, which features cremini mushrooms marinated in guajillo and ancho chiles. Seared over high heat, the mushrooms pick up a gentle smokiness, while remaining plump and almost juicy. The dark red marinade adds just enough of a warm chile glow to keep things interesting.

If you require more heat, the shop offers two fantastic salsas, a moderately spicy tomato salsa, dubbed the salsa de mi mami (my mom’s salsa), and a fierce green salsa known as salsa de la abuela (granny’s salsa). As the names suggest, these recipes have been with the family for decades, and they are both compelling and balanced. The salsa de la abuela certainly brings the heat, but it’s also complex and flavorful, not just an excuse to inflict pain.

I devoured the potato and mushroom taco. Instead of soft and mushy, these potatoes remained crispy on the outside and creamy within, which paired wonderfully with the supple mushroom pieces and spicy strips of poblano chile. I was less enamored with the Porta and Bell Pepper taco, which featured grilled portobello mushrooms with colorful, if boring, bell pepper strips. But I still ate the whole thing.

By ignoring the fake meat and focusing on fungi, the El Hongo Magico has an anchor that makes it tempting to people who simply want to eat less meat. Hopefully, they’ll soon get a permanent bricks-and-mortar location.

Rating: For taco fans everywhere

El Hongo Magico Taqueria, tacoselhongomagico.com; instagram.com/tacoselhongomagico

nkindelsperger@chicagotribune.com

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