I was an occasional customer at the Washington Mutual bank branch at the corner of Shepherd Drive and Washington Avenue near Houston’s Heights neighborhood. I can’t say the same for El Rey Taqueria across the way. However, WaMu went up in spectacular fashion during the onset of the 2008 financial crisis. El Rey did not.
The point is that tacos and burritos have incredible resilience. The bright blue El Rey at 910 Shepherd Dr. has been a fixture in an area that’s seen radical change over the past 30 years. Growing up, the stretch of Washington between the Westcott roundabout and Shepherd was blue collar with little shops and (I think) a Mexican grocer. It later transformed into a popular nightlife hub with people walking to and from bars and clubs, sometimes in little bicycle- or human-drawn carriages.
In 1997, Manuel “Manny” Diaz opened El Rey, which did not respond to Chron’s request for comments for this story. The only history I could surface about the restaurant came from a 2015 lawsuit that stated Diaz opened it with his grandmother’s recipes.
El Rey’s menu is a fusion of Mexican and Cuban traditions. You have your regular tacos, burritos, tortas and every so often, some black beans, mojo pork, and ropa vieja, and maybe a plantain will sneak in there. They used to have a comically huge burrito, but it doesn’t look like it’s on the menu anymore.
I visited El Rey for the first time in over 20 years on a Thursday morning. The space inside is diner-like, small and intimate. A few people were sitting at the counter, enjoying coffee and breakfast tacos. A deputy constable was picking up food to go.
I ordered an espresso (When in Havana), a beef empanada and one of El Rey’s newer breakfast items, a Cuban burrito. I took my breakfast with me to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, which was brightly lit thanks to the open windows. The wall was covered with photographs of Houston Astros players.
The empanada was reasonable enough, a soft, flaky pastry filled with savory ground beef. I would have appreciated an accompanying sauce. The burrito was stuffed with a motley assortment of scrambled eggs, black beans, habanero mayo and plantains. It’s definitely an acquired flavor, a curious mix of slightly sweet and a touch of salt. It’s not an issue for me because some South Asian cooking is a little similar, but buyer beware.
I looked out the window to see today’s Washington Avenue: a semi-generic hub of big brand shops and model townhomes behind them. Unintentionally, El Rey has become a kind of mascot for the Washington of yesteryear. Its survival and good fortune can be attributed to its bright, welcoming aesthetic and approachable menu. Eating there is a pleasant and quick affair, seemingly tailored to the busy motorists who criss-cross daily at the intersection just outside.
No wonder that El Rey survived and WaMu didn’t. Subprime mortgage lending is for some people. Tacos are for everyone.
Dining and Cooking