By Kaitlin Steinberg
By Minh T Truong
By Molly Dunn
By Brooke Viggiano
By Kaitlin Steinberg
By Molly Dunn
By Molly Dunn
By Eating Our Words
The fajitas plate lunch at Matamoros Meat Market No. 4 turned out to be a stew with small chunks of fajita beef and half-circles of sausage in it. The plate came with three handmade flour tortillas and two sides. But the lady behind the cafeteria line told me in Spanish that she wouldn't give me my lunch until I took the ticket to the cashier and paid for it.
I was mystified. The last time I'd eaten lunch there was several years ago, and at that time it was nothing but a meat counter with cooked meats to go. The taqueria area with its seating and cafeteria line was new to me.
The taqueria was added when Matamoros Meat Market No. 4 was remodeled about a year ago, the cashier told me in Spanish. There is now a dining area with six high tables, each furnished with several barstools, and a long stainless-steel counter that runs under the windows looking out on Washington Avenue. You can stand at the counter or use one of a dozen stainless-steel stools lined up underneath it.
Plate lunch: $3.99
Coffee with cinnamon: 79 cents
Carnitas (per pound): $5.99
Barbacoa regular (per pound): $5.99
Barbacoa cheek meat (per pound): $6.39
Barbacoa sesos (brains) per pound: $5.99
When I returned to the cafeteria line with my receipt, the lady handed me my lunch. Although I'd told her I wanted to eat it there, it came in a Styrofoam to-go container. Looking around the dining area at the remains of other people's lunches, I realized that every plate lunch comes in a Styrofoam to-go container.
So I sat down at one of the stools along the window, where I had a pleasant view of the street, and ate out of the package. It had been my intention to compare the fajita plate there with the fajitas served next door at El Tiempo Cantina. But that proved impossible.
El Tiempo specializes in mesquite-grilled meats. They bring the fajitas to your table on a charming little charcoal brazier loaded with a couple of burning coals to keep your food hot. They also have outstanding frozen margaritas, lots of patio seating and historic photos of Mama Ninfa and the rest of the Laurenzo gang on the walls. It's a veritable Tex-Mex amusement park. And half a pound of fajitas with all the fixings goes for $17.95.
Matamoros Meat Market is designed to fulfill a more utilitarian function: It's a meat market first and a taqueria second. They do have excellent fajita meat; in fact, they advertise it as the best in the country. But it's the kind you buy raw at the meat counter.
Browsing the raw meats, I saw a sign above the fajitas that read "USDA Choice or better." The only thing better than Choice is USDA Prime, I mused. And I was so taken with the idea of grilling up some high-quality fajita meat that I bought some to take home. There was also an excellent selection of charcoal. While I was at it, I got a half-pound of chorizo, too.
But I didn't see any grilled fajita meat at Matamoros Meat Market No. 4's taqueria the day I visited. All the meats were stewed and served from the steam table, except for the tripe and carnitas, which were in a warmer on the side. My stew of fajita meat and sausage came with two sides – I got refried beans and nopalitos – and it cost a whopping $3.99.
The stew had a pleasant enough flavor, and it was extremely filling. The beans were creamy; the tortillas were tough but warm; and the sausage, I think, was Eckridge Farms. The tart and tender nopalitos were probably the best thing on the plate.
I much preferred the carnitas taco that I had on another visit. The hot flour tortilla was smeared with refried beans and dotted with a little rice. The carnitas, which are pork chunks boiled in lard, were crispy on the edges and falling-apart tender in the middle. I slathered it all with brick-red salsa that proved quite hot. The taco cost $1.69, and the tortilla was so overstuffed, half of the filling fell out onto the foil. Luckily, plastic forks were provided.
The food at Matamoros Meat Market No. 4 can be quite good, if you stick with specialties like carnitas and barbacoa. And you can't beat the prices. Granted, the ambience isn't as charming as El Tiempo's, but the interior decor is fascinating in its own right.
The lighting is appropriately bright for a market, and the signage for Bimbo bread and Budweiser beer creates a festive mood that blends perfectly with the pinatas along the back wall, as well as the paper cutouts hanging from a string in front of the meat counter. The floor is painted green, but the paint is mottled with wear, so the white concrete underneath shows through, creating a color pattern reminiscent of the outside of a watermelon.
During the recent remodel, the walls were decorated by a mural painter. The mural next to the chicharrones case is typical of the Mexican-restaurant wall-painting genre. It depicts a pouting Mexican girl showing some cleavage in a white cotton dress as she kneels at a metate.
But on the wall opposite the metate girl, directly above your head if you sit at the counter facing Washington, there are six extraordinary still-lifes. The compositions are almost identical: a package of Matamoros corn tortillas, a molcajete full of stylized salsa and a white square to-go box with the lid open, all arranged on an open napkin.