It's The Puff For Me

I'm from Florida. Honestly, I think I could stop there and everyone would understand. Anyone who has ever met a Floridian will know where this is going. We are not known for having a cool climate, but for our almost desert heat combined with a level of humidity that resembles a rain forest. In fact, just the other day the high temperature was 93 degrees (but felt like 105) with 65% humidity. What a nightmare, right?

But despite having those kinds of summers, there are upsides to living in the bowels of Hell. For example, the beaches with the salty ocean water caressing your face and calming the temperature demons that drench your body in sweat as soon as you walk out the door. The multitude of outdoor pools, pretty tans, cute bathing suits, and the wonderful puffy taco at your local Mexican restaurant.

That's right: the puffy taco. I always find it interesting when I mention my favorite food to people because there aren't very many that know what I'm talking about. The puffy taco is a staple to any menu that doesn't recieve the credit it deserves, and it happens to not only be my favorite summer food but my favorite food entirely.

Despite the puffy taco not being a traditional dish from Mexico, Mexican food remains my favorite type to this day. That's because of my totally awesome and cool grandfather that shares the same taste. When I think about summer, I'm reminded of the times I got to see him and he would take the family out to eat. My sister and I were always asked what we wanted. For my sister, it was Italian; but for me, it was Mexican. As a child, nothing excited me more than Taco House and salsa.

Taco House is a tiny locally owned Mexican restaurant here in Pensacola, Florida. It's been around for as long as I can remember and managed to stay afloat during the Covid shutdown when a lot of other local businesses closed their doors permanently. Taco House is a staple restaurant in my family, and I have been eating there since I was born. In fact, my mom was more than likely eating there while she was pregnant with me, which kind of explains my taste for tacos in general.

I feel like I didn't get a lot of time with my grandfather when I was younger. Partly because of the responsibilities he had and also us living almost 2,000 miles away at one point. Although something I have always remembered about my childhood was sitting next to him eating tacos, especially when I discovered the puffy taco. (I'm going to exclude the time I accidentally used the habanero sauce for my tortilla chip because they hadn't sat the salsa down yet, and I was impatient).

It was a hot day in Florida and I was about fifteen or sixteen. Honestly, I could be totally wrong about my age but I know I was somewhere in my teenage years. Well anyway, I went out to lunch with him one day and saw a puffy taco on the menu. Now, I hadn't seen him in a really long time which means I hadn't stepped foot in a Taco House since I was probably eight or nine and was about to move to South Dakota.

But my mind wandered at the possibilities of what a puffy taco entailed. Was it like a chalupa from Taco Bell? The answer is no, it definitely wasn't, although those chalupas are no joke. I could feel my mouth water and my taste buds screaming. The adventurous side of me began to rear its ugly head like the temperature outside (this is Florida, after all). I looked at my grandfather and asked, "What is a puffy taco?"

He didn't give me a full description but just said that it was so big it filled the plate and that I would really like it. So obviously I ordered it. My grandfather didn't know what he did that day, but he created a monster. As soon as I saw it, the smell of taco meat hit my nose. I could practically taste the combination of sauces and spices. I knew I couldn't eat the puffy taco the traditional way, so I grabbed my fork and dug in.

The slight crunching sound smacked my ears and confusion crossed my brain because how can something have a crunch and yet be so soft? I tried not to think about it too much, but then the food entered my mouth and alarms went off in my head. It was the greatest thing to ever touch my taste buds. It was everything other tacos were missing and more. Now ten plus years later, I still order the puffy taco every time. I've never gotten tired of it and never will.

So, what is a puffy taco? As I stated before, I get this question a lot. I find it weird because where I live, every Mexican restaurant has it on its menu. Just a warning though:

If you eat it, you will never eat anything else on the menu again.

That's right. Say goodbye to the nachos, the burritos, the enchiladas, the tamales, and whatever else your heart desires when you sit down to drown yourself in Mexican food. You'll only ever be drowning in puffy tacos for the rest of your life. You will die eating a puffy taco. Your friends will put puffy tacos in the grave with you to ensure you have them in the afterlife like the Egyptians filled the sarcophagi with riches for their pharaohs. And yes, I enjoy saying the words puffy taco.

Anyway, let's get into it...

The history of the puffy taco started in San Antonio, Texas. It was the 1950's and America was booming. The economy was making its comeback after a long era of poverty known as the Great Depression and the end of a terrible conflict known as World War II. Everyone was blossoming with their new cars, new houses, and enriched lives. The United States was on top of the world and was considered the strongest military power in the world.

During this time, two brothers by the names Henry and Ray Lopez were working together at Ray's restaurant when they developed the recipe for the puffy taco. Basically, it's like a regular taco except its shell isn't crunchy or soft, but a combination of both. The shell is created from ground corn masa, salt, and warm water to create a slightly wetter dough than one would have if one were making a normal corn flour tortilla.

Once the dough is made, it is then left to sit until it reaches room temperature. Then it is pressed into a tortilla and dropped into a deep fryer where the cook takes a spoon and pushes the center until the dough forms a shell resembling a hard shell taco. Once the shell is complete, it is drained and filled with all the good stuff:

• Meat
• cheese
• tomatoes
• lettuce

Then, the puffy taco is plated and served. Now, further garnishes can vary depending on the restaurant. Some like to cover it in salsa roja, also known as the red chili sauce one would usually see on an enchilada, and queso. Others will go further and add shredded cheese and more lettuce and tomato. The great thing about puffy tacos is that they are made to order because the shells have a short lifespan.

The idea is that the person who eats the dish will have the puffy taco basically right out of the deep fryer. The shell will have a slightly crunchy texture while also being soft and mouthwatering. All the ingredients and garnishes complement each other very well. The puffy taco isn't eaten like a normal hard or soft shell taco because it is meant to be greasy and falling apart.

Which is why they will probably be the death of me. One day, my doctor is going to tell me that I can't eat those kinds of foods anymore otherwise I will die earlier than expected. My doctor will talk about high cholesterol or blood sugar, or something like that. Will I listen? Absolutely. I will give up my caffeinated beverages, my southern-style, sugar-infested sweet tea, and all the fast-food restaurants I like.

But I will never stop eating my puffy tacos. It's just not going to happen. Asking me to give up puffy tacos is like asking Hurricane Sally not to dump water on my home for two days, cut our power for a week, and ruin five-hundred dollars worth of groceries I'd just bought not knowing there was a hurricane coming for us. Impossible. Hurricanes are unpredictable and don't listen. Kind of like my love of puffy tacos.