I absolutely love tacos. There’s just something about them. The portability, the endless possibilities in flavors and textures, the different meats, the cooking methods. The full, glorious range of what you can do with a tortilla and something worth eating. I love the traditional — the historically accurate, the regionally specific, the kind of taco that hasn’t changed in three generations because it doesn’t need to. And I love the wild imagination of fusion tacos too.
I also love eating with my hands. Give me meat cooked in a traditional method, a tortilla to wrap it in, some white onion, cilantro, jalapeño, and a salsa — and I am exactly where I want to be. That same feeling hits me with Middle Eastern food, with Indian food. The idea of using bread as your vehicle — as the thing that carries everything else into your mouth — is one of the great joys of eating on this planet. Simple, primal, perfect.
And then there’s what food can do that nothing else can. It can introduce you to a culture you’ve never experienced, a place you’ve never been, a family you’ve never met. I think about Candy, who owns Birria Quesa Tacos in Syracuse, when this comes to mind. When I eat her Birria tacos I am introduced to her own Father because it is his recipe that she is using. Candy grew up watching him make it — memorizing every move, every spice, every instinct. The recipe she uses today in her restaurant lives in those memories. So while I may never make it to Mexico, may never sit at her family’s table, I can still meet them — through the consommé, through the tortilla, through the tender beef. That’s what food does. That’s why it matters.
I’m not a taco snob. I want to be clear about that. I can appreciate as traditional an Al Pastor taco as I can appreciate some beautifully bastardized fusion version. I am here for cow tongue wrapped in a fresh tortilla. I am equally here for a well-seasoned chicken taco loaded with beans and guacamole and hot sauce. The only thing I’m not here for is mediocrity. Don’t waste my time with bland. Don’t give me something that tastes like it came from a chat gpt prompt. And don’t..I repeat don’t place on your menu these tacos in exact order, “Carne Asada. Carnitas. And Chicken tacos.” For the love of god, at least call them pollo.
My Taco Month search was never about finding the “best” tacos in existence. It wasn’t some definitive ranking. I was simply going out and eating — finding great tacos in the corners of New York that I had the chance to visit. And let me be honest — I barely scratched the surface. There are places in Buffalo, the Southern Tier, the North Country, and the Capital Region I never made it to. Places I know about and places I don’t. I can’t imagine how many incredible tacos exist in towns I’ve never heard of, made by people I’ve never met, using recipes that have never been photographed or posted or reviewed by anyone. And that’s before you even get to New York City.
So don’t leave me a nasty comment. Don’t send me a nasty email. Taco Month 2026 is officially over, but I’m not done. I will get to the places you recommended. I promise. At some point in time,
I ate tacos at about 24 restaurants in April. Most of them were good — genuinely good, worth the drive, worth the video. A few were not, and I’ll leave those names where they belong — nowhere. Of everything I ate this year, these eight places are the ones I keep thinking about. The ones I’d send you to without hesitation. There are other places I’ve visited in years past that belong on a list like this — but I haven’t been back recently, and I don’t recommend what I can’t stand behind right now. One day I’ll make the exhaustive list. Past and present. Every taco worth remembering.
Restaurante El Buen Gusto— Utica – 1101 Mohawk St, Utica.
I didn’t know this place existed until an hour before I walked in the door. I was finishing up appointments in Utica, had thirty minutes to spare, and made the mistake I always make — I almost talked myself out of it. That’s one of my worst qualities. The cynicism. My assumption that a place won’t be worth it before I’ve given it a fair shot. It has cost me great meals before. It almost cost me this one.
I went out of necessity. It was five minutes away and I had time. That’s it. That’s the whole reason I went.
I walked in and saw Tacos de Lengua on the menu. Cow tongue. Right then I knew I was somewhere worth being.
I’ve developed a simple theory about taco shops: if there’s no organ meat on the menu, you might not be getting the most authentic experience. Tongue, intestine, stomach — these things tell you something. They tell you the kitchen isn’t cooking for the timid. The Lengua here was slowly braised to tenderness, then hit with a quick sear for texture. Diced white onion, cilantro, simple and correct. Mildly beefy, slightly fatty, just enough seasoning to remind you someone thought about this. Their cilantro cream salsa put it over the top — a bright, light acidity that cut through the fat and made every bite sing. I did not expect this in Utica. I should stop being surprised.
Los Compadres — Batavia – 40 Oak St, Batavia
Vince Press has been telling me to do a taco tour in Batavia for a year. Taco Month was the excuse I needed. We struck out twice — one place was inexplicably closed on a Tuesday despite every corner of the internet saying otherwise, and another gave us the most aggressively white person taco I’ve encountered in recent memory. I won’t name either of them.
But then we found Los Compadres. And it was worth every wrong turn.
We ordered the ribeye, the Lengua, and the trippa — pig intestine. The Lengua was excellent, rich and deeply flavored, the kind of taco you’d drive back for. But the trippa was something else entirely. Sliced thin, deep fried, it arrives at your table crispy and impossible to describe without using the word “primal.” There’s a crunch to it, and then a chew, and then this wave of fat that coats your mouth and your lips and your fingertips. You can see it. You can feel it. It is not delicate. It is not for everyone. It was absolutely for me. This is a must-try taco — full stop.
Chuy’s Taqueria — Rochester – 1754 Mt Hope Ave, Rochester.
This place had been on my list and Taco Month finally got me through the door. I’ll be honest — I had low expectations walking in. I used to live in Texas, where there’s a Tex-Mex chain called Chuy’s that’s perfectly fine and completely forgettable. Same-ish name, different energy entirely.
Chuy’s looks like a restaurant that’s trying. I mean that as a genuine compliment. You can feel the intention when you walk in. And then I saw Buche on the menu — pork stomach — and every other thought left my head.
I ordered the Carnitas, the Barbacoa, and the Al Pastor too, because I’m thorough. All of them were good. But the Buche is why you go. Sliced thin, slow cooked, no crunch, no sear — just this yielding, fatty, deeply savory thing that doesn’t fall apart but doesn’t fight you either. And then I put their chocolate salsa on it. Not a mole — don’t call it a mole, it’s listed as chocolate salsa and that’s exactly what it is. Thick, dark, you can taste the chocolate and then the heat arrives and it just works. Against all logic it works. This combination is a must-try. I’m still thinking about it.
Birria Quesa Tacos — Syracuse – 415 W Onondaga St, Syracuse.
There are restaurants you go to for the food. And then there are restaurants you go to because the food and the story are inseparable — because one without the other is somehow less than what it should be. Birria Quesa Tacos is the latter.
This has been my favorite Birria in Syracuse for a long time. Arguably my favorite in New York. And it starts with Candy. Her father was the king of Birria in their neighborhood. She watched him make it. Memorized the recipe not by writing it down but by standing in the kitchen and paying attention. She carried that with her to Syracuse, New York, where she started selling tacos out of her home, then moved to a small test kitchen downtown, and now runs her own restaurant and food truck. That’s not a small thing. That’s a life’s work.
And she makes her own tortillas. In a city where no one else has tried to do so…she is making her own. The Birria itself is packed — clove forward, rich, complex, the kind of flavor that makes you pause mid-bite. I call these the messy Birria. If you’re on a first date and you’re still in the phase where you’re pretending to be composed, do not come here. The cheese pulls, the consommé drips, and there is no dignified way to eat these. There is only the delicious, glorious mess of them. Come back when you don’t care anymore. Come back when you just want the taco.
Rancho Tacos — Amherst – 727 Maple Rd, Amherst.
People had been recommending Rancho Tacos to me for a while and I finally made it out there earlier this winter. Here’s what you need to know before I tell you anything about the food: it’s inside a gas station.
I love this. I love it unreservedly. There is a long and proud tradition — in Texas, in Mississippi, in places where people eat without pretense — of the best food in the county coming out of a building that also sells motor oil. I once found one of the top-rated po’boy shops in Mississippi inside a gas station just like this one, and I think about it regularly. Rancho Tacos fits that lineage. The setting strips away any artifice. You’re not here for the ambiance. You’re here because someone in that kitchen knows what they’re doing.
And they do. The food is very, very good — and the fact that you’re eating it next to a rack of Slim Jims makes it taste even better. Don’t ask me to explain that. Some things just work.
Smokin’ Pete’s — Geneva – 5286 W Lake Rd, Geneva.
I’ll say this upfront because I think it’s worth noting: Smokin’ Pete’s is one of only two (I think) white-owned restaurants that made this list. I don’t say that to be political. I say it because I think it’s significant — because great Birria is hard to make, and the fact that this barbecue joint on Seneca Lake is making one of the better ones I’ve had in New York deserves acknowledgment.
Let me back up. Smokin’ Pete’s is already tied for second best barbecue I’ve had in New York State. That alone is worth the drive to Geneva. But their Birria tacos are something else entirely — elite is not too strong a word.
Street-sized, the way they should be. Filled with beef and cheese, the tortilla dipped in broth before hitting the flat top. And that broth — that consommé — is on another level. Thick but fluid, packed with flavor, loaded with clove. I was absolutely convinced they were making their tortillas in-house. The texture was so distinctly flaky, so perfectly layered, that it seemed impossible otherwise. They had to seriously convince me they weren’t. What actually happens, they explained, is that the volume of broth and the time the tortilla spends soaking before it hits the flat top creates this almost magical transformation — turning a standard tortilla into something flaky and fatty and extraordinary. The beef inside is perfectly seasoned, the whole thing cohesive and confident. These tacos stopped me in my tracks. That’s how you know.
Silver Iguana — Rochester – 663 Winton Rd N, Rochester.
From what I remember, Silver Iguana was voted best taco in Rochester last year. It had been on my list for at least two years. Friends had been recommending it for longer than that. Sometimes anticipation is a liability — you build something up so high that reality can’t possibly clear the bar. Silver Iguana cleared the bar.
They have some more approachable, crowd-pleasing options on the menu — your ordinary people taco contingent, if you will. I had three different tacos. Two of them were fine. One of them was remarkable.
The Birria. Of course it was the Birria.
What set it apart wasn’t just the beef — it was the architecture of the thing. Melted cheese in the fold of the tortilla, the way Birria should be. But at the edges, where the cheese had spread and crisped on the flat top, it had gone golden and lacy — that perfect crispy frill that gives way to the gooey interior. The consommé was thick, almost approaching the consistency of a thin smoothie, absolutely loaded with clove and depth. Every element in balance. The chew, the crisp, the pull of the cheese, the richness of the beef, the brightness of the broth on the side. This is what a Birria taco is supposed to be. The other tacos I had were forgettable. These were not.
Taqueria Monterey — Rochester – 627 Culver Rd, Rochester.
Taqueria Monterey was actually the first stop of Taco Month — the place that started everything. I didn’t know much about it going in. It had been sitting on my list, one of those places you mean to get to and keep not getting to. I walked in not knowing what to expect and walked out having learned something.
I ordered the Barbacoa, the Carnitas. All solid. But the Trompo was the revelation — thinly sliced pork, beautifully marinated, layered with flavor. And then their roasted zucchini salsa arrived and the whole thing shifted into another gear. Not heat — flavor. This deep, smoky, roasted zucchini mixed with cilantro and lime against that thin-sliced pork was one of those combinations that makes you stop and just eat. No talking. Just eating.
But here’s what else happened. The tacos came out on a tray with roasted potatoes and sautéed onions on the side. I didn’t know what that was about. Turns out it’s a characteristic of northern Mexican cuisine — a regional distinction I genuinely had not encountered before. And then I noticed the salsa bar. A full, self-serve setup — different salsas, diced white onion, cilantro, limes. Help yourself. Take what you want. There’s a trust embedded in that gesture.
This was my first real introduction to the distinct identity of northern Mexican cooking versus other regional traditions. The flavors are similar. The approach is different. The hospitality is different. I don’t think I saw organ meat here — I’ll have to go back and confirm — but these tacos were delicious and this place deserves every bit of attention it gets.
So there it is. Eight taco shops in New York State that I think everyone should visit. And look — there are probably thirty or forty more places I’ve been to over the years that could be on a list like this. I left them out deliberately. This is about what I ate over the last few months, what I can stand behind right now, what I’d send you to today without hesitation. The exhaustive, career-spanning taco list is coming eventually. Maybe.
In the meantime, if you’re heading out for Cinco de Mayo or any day between now and forever, go to one of these eight places. Better yet, go to all of them. Make a trip of it. Eat with your hands. Order the organ meat. Trust the kitchen.
And a genuine thank you to Acropolis Realty Group, who made Taco Month possible. Themed months like this are something I want to do a lot more of here at Eat Local New York — they force me to finally get to the places that have been sitting on my list, and to shine a specific light on the kitchens doing specific things exceptionally well. It’s also just a lot of fun. More themed months are coming. More content, more drives, more meals worth writing about.
None of it happens without a sponsor willing to make it possible. If you’re looking to buy or sell a home in Central New York, need help with a commercial property, or you’re a real estate agent looking for a great brokerage — consider Acropolis Realty Group. Eat Local New York Taco Month would not exist without them.
