As the eldest of six, I had the wonderful blessing of having spent more time with our dad than my siblings did. Dad was the embodiment of the term “gentle man,” a patient mentor and nurturing exemplar of how to be a father and friend. During our many outings, dad always had the radio tuned to KDCE, “The Station That’s All Heart” out of Espanola. KDCE played the New Mexican and Mexican songs dad grew up with and loved. Among his favorites (frequently on KDCE’s repertoire) was Ay Jalisco No Te Rajes by Jorge Negrete. It became one of my favorites, too.
The song title made absolutely no sense to me because the term “rajes” comes from the verb “rajarse” which means to “crack” or “split.” Dad explained that colloquially, “no te rajes” means “don’t back out” or “don’t chicken out.” He assured me the song was basically a love song to the Mexican state of Jalisco. He also told me it was the theme song to the 1941 Mexican movie of the same name, based on a novel by the same name. If you think I’m a wealth of information, you should have met my dad, one of the most brilliant men I’ve been blessed to know.
When my friend Sarita told me Elotes Del Rancho had changed its name to “No Te Rajes,” I was sure it would have something to do with the song my dad loved so much. Indeed it does. Edgar Padilla isn’t from Jalisco. He’s from Juarez, but like many Mexicans the notion of “not chickening out” is as much an approach to life as it is an approach to eating. Some of the salsas he serves with his outstanding Mexican cuisine will challenge you. Remember, “no te rajes” means “don’t chicken out.” Enjoy those salsas in all their fiery glory.
Original Review Updated
“Now you’re just being uppity.” That’s my Kim putting me in my place the second I begin to crow haughtily about some highbrow or nouveau way to prepare something ordinary. Tandoori salmon pizza…that’s so me. Huitlacoche burgers…bring them on. Kimchi grilled cheese…why didn’t anyone think of this before? Flaming Hot Cheetos pancakes…the best part of waking up. Invariably when we visit a new restaurant, your gallant gastronome scans the menu for the most unique (aka weird, strange, unconventional) item on the menu. If it’s something I’ve never before had, it’s probably what I’ll order. An argument could be made that this is adventurous dining. For my Kim, it’s just more of her highfalutin husband’s “I’ll try anything even if it hurts” approach to life.
As we luxuriated over steamy mugs of freshly ground coffee on lazy Saturday morning, I proposed lunch at a trendy new taqueria offering among other paragons of incongruity, Cajun deep-fried tacos with napolitos and mango salsa. “For once why can’t you take me to a place that serves ordinary food? You know, the places you call “boring, my Kim pleaded. Very much my better, more sensible half, my Kim loves tacos though unlike me, she doesn’t eschew traditional and proven favorites for unknown commodities which may or may not turn out to be good. She knows carnitas tacos are usually quite wonderful. She doesn’t trust that peanut butter rattlesnake satay tacos will be.
Thankfully in my back pocket for just such an occasion was a recommendation from my friend Sarita (whose work-of-art photography occasionally graces this blog) for a mobile kitchen (that’s food truck to you, Bob) in our hometown of Rio Rancho. Sarita raved about the simple menu and especially the elotes: “Not *quite* as good as El Cotorro, but it sure was good.” She had me at elotes, the classic Mexican street food of corn on the cob charred on a grill then slathered in melted butter and topped with a creamy sauce sprinkled with Cotija cheese. Elotes are as irresistible as a lunch date with Sarita (and we’re overdue).
Sarita’s visit transpired in August shortly after No Te Rajes began prowling the City of Vision’s mean streets (as Elotes Del Rancho). The menu she encountered, though somewhat limited, was a bit different than the menu we found some six months later. Seasonal availability of corn on the cob is one reason. Another is owners’ prerogative to change up the menu based on what’s selling best. One commonality between the menu we both saw was an anthropomorphic drawing of a steaming bowl of menudo chasing away a lizard-like creature called “La Cruda” which New Mexicans recognize as “the hang-over.”
Tacos (carne asada or carnitas), tortas, menudo and of course, elotes garnished the menu. Sadly, elotes were available only in a cup. Corn on the cob apparently can’t be found during winter…and speaking of winter, operating a food truck during winter is a tough proposition. Edgar Padilla, the amicable owner confided that some days very few diners brave winter’s bite to sate their stomachs. Unlike the nomadic mobile kitchens which flit from place to place, No Te Rajes is currently stationed at only two Rio Rancho locations. Tuesday through Friday you can find it at 2101 Southern Blvd. while on Saturdays and Sundays, its home is 2300 Southern Blvd. You’ll want to consult its Facebook page to make absolutely sure.
Sarita prepared me well, apprising me that “there is virtually no seating, so you have the options of eating in your car, taking it home, or having a nice little picnic at one of the nearby parks.” We parked close by, suspecting we’d like the featured fare so much that we might want to order more. Good decision! No Te Rajes might not have a large menu, but what it does offer is top shelf stuff. We were blown away by how much we enjoyed every item we ordered…even me, the culinary explorer who seeks exotic eats at every turn.
16 May 2020: Elotes in a cup are Mexican street food at its finest, what diners order when they don’t want glistening buttered corn faces. In season, kernels of corn are shaved off the cob with a sharp knife, slathered with butter, deposited in a cup and topped with a tangy Mexican crema, crumbled Cotija cheese and chile. That’s pretty much how No Te Rajes serves its elotes in a cup. It’s your call as to how piquant you want your corn concoction, but “medium” should work for most people (unless you’re Texan). At first glance, the corn in a cup looks like a snowfall of Cotija cheese with just a bit of chile sprinkled on. You’ll want to ensure that cheese is distributed throughout your cup so swirl it around to your heart’s content. The results are a sweet, salty, creamy fresh flavored corn that evokes feelings of summer.
16 May 2020: Unlike some of the taco joints I tend to favor which proffer creative combinations which scream “these aren’t your mother’s tacos,” No Te Rajes offers only two types of tacos–carnitas and carne asada. These just happen to be my Kim’s favorites. Adorned solely with chopped onion and cilantro, these tacos are of the overstuffed variety. It takes two warm corn tortillas to hold in all the ingredients and that’s before you add salsa, a very piquant blend. These tacos are a wonderful reminder that sometimes going back to basics is best; that there is beauty, deliciousness and tremendous enjoyment in simplicity. I wouldn’t add a thing and for me, that’s saying something.
16 May 2020: The English term barbecue has its genesis in the Caribbean Indian word barbacoa, however, despite commonalities (both involve meat), these two terms do not denote the same thing. Barbecue involves the low and slow preparation of food over a grill while barbacoa is a steaming-baking process. Results from both processes are delicious. Regional variations of barbacoa exist, but what most barbacoa has in common is very rich, very moist, absolutely delicious shredded barbacoa beef. My very favorite torta is one made with barbacoa. No Te Rajes’s version is as wonderful as any you’ll find anywhere (including San Antonio, Texas). A smear of guacamole, just a little bit of lettuce, cilantro and onions cut into the richness of the beef, but you’ll probably want to add some of the salsa picante, too. The salsa is made by Edgar’s loving bride. It’s a superb salsa, one that will leave your lips tingling with delight and because it has some serious bite. The torta de barbacoa is a fabulous sandwich…so good I had it five visits in a row (a rarity for a guy who loves changing things up), so good it made my best sandwich list.
16 May 2020: During our second visit, Edgar changed up the menu, offering an item heretofore unseen at any Mexican restaurant we’ve visited. Chicharrón prensado (pressed pork) is just something you don’t often find save for in Mexican homes or if you’re lucky, your favorite carniceria. If you’re scratching your head as to what chicharrón prensado is, you’re probably not alone. Chicharrón prensado actually get its start as pork carnitas which go through a rather simple process you can duplicate at home…or you can do as we did and let Edgar do the hard work. Tacos stuffed with chicharrón prensado are beyond good; they’re transformative!
8 March 2020: As Edgar predicted, the chicharrones prensado tacos would become an obsession. During our third visit in less than a month, my Kim had two more tacos from this pork carnitas derivative. Edgar assured me the torta de chicharron prensado would be even better, not that it took much persuasion. The telera bread Edgar uses in the construction of his overstuffed tortas is absolutely worthy of admiration, if not worship. It is simply outstanding! So is the chicharron prensado, a blend of lean and fatty pork carnitas offering textural contrasts ranging from crispy to tender and everything in between. Then there’s the incendiary salsa, a tongue-tingling blend that will bring sweat to your brow. The generous smear of rich guacamole is a perfect counterbalance to the napalm-heat of the salsa. This is another torta to live in my dreams.
During our inaugural visit, we discerned a familiarity that instantly earned our affections. Edgar confirmed that the corn tortillas he uses for his tacos come from Tortilleria Cuahtemoc on Bridge Blvd. We’ve been buying our corn tortillas by the gross (144 tortillas or 12 bags) at this neighborhood market for years. They’re unfailingly fresh and have that pronounced corn flavor that makes for the best tacos. The cloud-like telera bread used for tortas comes from Marielena’s Panaderia on Coors Blvd. It’s the very best repository for a sandwich I’ve ever had–better even than the French bread used in New Orleans for muffalettas.
28 June 2020: Two-time James Beard Award-winning blog seriouseats.com calls the taco and the torta “the twin pillars of Mexican street food, but where the taco is small and sexy and has long since seduced all of America in its many forms, the torta (with its many Mexican sandwich siblings) is just teetering on the brink of international stardom.” In his terrific tome Tacos, Tortas, and Tamales, Roberto Santibañez argued that translating the word torta to “sandwich” is like describing a Rembrandt masterpiece as a portrait—accurate, but not doing justice. See, your humble blogger isn’t the only one crowing about the magnificence of the empyrean torta.
Three days after introducing my friend, the walking Wikipedia and sublime sommelier Tom Molitor, to the life-altering torta de barbacoa, my Kim and I returned. Instead of my usual torta de barbacoa, my Kim challenged me to try something different–the torta de carne asada. The comparison is akin to comparing a McLaren 720S to the Lamborghini Huracan. Both are phenomenal! Both the barbacoa and carne asada showcase beef in rich, delicious manners. While my heart belongs to the torta de barbacoa, it’s nice to know an occasional dalliance elsewhere can still be utterly delicious.
25 September 2020: The most recent addition to the small but packed with deliciousness menu are tacos al pastor. Translating from Spanish to “in the style of the shepherd,” al pastor is often prepared by spit-grilling pork slowly on a vertical “trompo” (spinning top) as shepherds might do. Edgar’s version is served four tacos per order, two corn tortillas per taco. Each taco is overstuffed with grilled pork the color of a deep blush. That color is courtesy of achiote, a spice and coloring agent with a mild peppery flavor. Other flavors come from the tropical sweetness of pineapple, bite of white onion and freshness of cilantro with subtle spices such as garlic and cumin (yes, cumin). These are terrific tacos!
12 November 2021: As authentic Mexican food continues to explode across the fruited plain, we’ve been introduced to new and deliciously different foods with unique and interesting names. For the most part we’ve been able to uncover the provenance of such fascinating cognomens as mulas, caramelos, vampiros, gringas, momias and dillas (slang for Dudes). As we approached the familiar red conveyance of deliciousness, we espied two more items warranting research: Ignacias and Adelitas. The first and most enjoyable steps in our research are touch and taste. That’s the easy part. Uncovering the genesis of these mysterious names would be the real challenge.
According to a cardboard menu taped onto the truck, Ignacias are “meat of your choice in two flour tortillas plus melted cheese, onions, cilantro, red salsa.” Adelitas are “two corn quesadillas with the meat of your choice, onion, cilantro, red salsa.” Though like every item on No Te Rajes’s menu we knew we’d love them both, we ordered only the the Ignacias (along with our usual elotes and my torta de barbacoa). At first glance, the Ignacias resemble a flatbread or pizzetta though the toppings were certainly not what you’d see on an Italian restaurant menu. Our meat of choice was al pastor. The verdict–another delicious offering. My research on the name Ignacias continues. With any luck Edgar will be available to help me out when we visit again.
19 March 2022: Changing the name of the food truck from “Elotes Del Rancho” to “No Te Rajes” isn’t all that’s happening with my favorite food truck in the universe. Edgar has help now–two lovely young ladies to take and deliver your order and perform some prep duties. Having help means Edgar can now focus on what he does best–creating delicious food. He’s expanded the menu, adding among other things a hamburger and two new tortas Considering my love for tortas, you can bet that’s what I ordered.
It also stands to reason I’d order the torta named for the food truck itself. The No Te Rajes torta is constructed with carne asada, ham, pineapple, melted cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and Edgar’s secret green salsa. That salsa has the kick of a mule on steroids. Sure, the pineapple tempers the piquancy of that salsa a bit, but remembering “No Te Rajes” means “don’t chicken out,” I was determined not only to finish the behemoth between buns, but not to quell the burn with water or milk. Piquancy isn’t this torta’s sole redeeming quality. It’s absolutely delicious, one I’ll have time and again (it’ll mean fewer tortas de barbacoa)
No Te Rajes is so good, I was inspired to create my very first (and so far, only) review on Yelp. In fact, my friend Howie “The Duke of Duke City” Kaibel, the erstwhile Albuquerque Community Manager for Yelp and I were supposed to meet at No Te Rajes the week the world went crazy and we were all rendered home-bound. During all the weeks of lockdown, the food item I missed most was the transformative torta de barbacoa, one of the best sandwiches in the world. No Te Rajes’s return gave us hope and sustenance.
No Te Rajes
2101 Southern Blvd
Rio Rancho, New Mexico
Facebook Page | Website
LATEST VISIT: 19 March 2022
1st VISIT: 15 February 2020
# OF VISITS: 12
BEST BET: Elote in a Cup, Torta de Barbacoa, Carnitas Taco, Carne Asada Taco, Tacos de Chicharrón Prensado, Torta de Chicharron Prensado, Torta de Carnitas, Torta de Carne Asada, Tacos Al Pastor, Gorditas, Ignacias, Torta No Te Rajas