Venue Info

This cinderblock structure on Fort Worth’s Northside is smaller on the inside than it is on the outside. There are no indoor seats, only a broken tile counter with a handwritten menu propped against a wall, an old stove, and some coolers. Four people at the counter forces a line to form on the sidewalk outside. But the queue moves quickly, thanks to a limited menu, offering variations on items with chicharrones (fried pork skin), refried beans, pork roast, and/or potatoes. The price tags can be off-putting. Still, if you order Granny’s most popular taco, a six-dollar beast of thick, crunchy chicharrones in a salsa roja, refried beans, and firm potatoes bound by a net of melted orange cheese in a flour tortilla that flirts with identifying as a pita, we bet you’ll be more than satisfied with bill. It’s the kind of taco that could be a TCU football player’s undoing. The chicharrones is worth it.

Dallas

Granny’s Tacos

José R. Ralat/Thrillist

This cinderblock structure on Fort Worth’s Northside is smaller on the inside than it is on the outside. There are no indoor seats, only a broken tile counter with a handwritten menu propped against a wall, an old stove, and some coolers. Four people at the counter forces a line to form on the sidewalk outside. But the queue moves quickly, thanks to a limited menu, offering variations on items with chicharrones (fried pork skin), refried beans, pork roast, and/or potatoes. The price tags can be off-putting. Still, if you order Granny’s most popular taco, a six-dollar beast of thick, crunchy chicharrones in a salsa roja, refried beans, and firm potatoes bound by a net of melted orange cheese in a flour tortilla that flirts with identifying as a pita, we bet you’ll be more than satisfied with bill. It’s the kind of taco that could be a TCU football player’s undoing. The chicharrones is worth it.