The Search for Al Pastor Ends in Detroit's Mexicantown

When people ask me what I miss most about Chicago after moving back to Michigan last year, my immediate response is all of the great taquerias around town. I’m not talking about the places open until 4am in Lincoln Park that serve up gigantic burritos, or even the upscale taco joints in places like Wicker Park. I’m talking about the taco counters in the back of the Mexican grocery stores, places that use paddles the size of canoe oars to stir a huge pot of carnitas simmering in lard, places where your order is quantified not by number of tacos, but by pounds of meat. And every once in a while, you’d stumble across the holy grail of Mexican grilled meats – al pastor cooked on the spit.