Nobody comes to the table without a food history -- likes and dislikes, cooking successes and failures, memorable meals and ones that would be better to forget. All of it is colored by our earliest memories of food, mixed with feelings about home, holidays, parents, grandparents and perhaps food fights with siblings.
Bill and Marcie Espinoza have their own history, nothing glamorous, but one shared with hungry people since they opened a restaurant in a plain building in a plain neighborhood more than 11 years ago. Their tiny Navajo Hogan, a cinderblock structure on a nondescript stretch of 3300 South, is the place to go for fry bread, which makes an edible plate for all manner of toppings, including beans, meat and cinnamon sugar. It is cheap (nothing on the menu over $7), filling and more tasty than its simple components would predict. A steer could have no higher calling than to produce shredded beef that tastes like this.
The Espinozas did not set out to own a restaurant. But it occurred to Bill one day, as the business he started in the cinderblock building continued to struggle, that the fry bread tacos he was eating were really delicious. Marcie, who is part Pueblo Indian, had grown up on blue corn mush and fry bread cooked by her mother and aunts in New Mexico. She knew how to make a mean taco, although she already had a job.
They went ahead. The building was outfitted with inexpensive metal wire chairs, tables covered with plastic cloths and cooking gear. All that remained was a name. It was Marcie's thinking that, since the restaurant would be "home of the Navajo taco" and hogans were the traditional Navajo home, Navajo Hogan was a perfect fit. Bill wasn't so sure, but since they needed to make the sign, he gave in.
Anyway, what's in a name? The Espinoza's shredded beef would still taste this sweet and tender, with a flavor produced by hours of slow cooking that allows the meat to stew in its own juice and fat. They serve the shredded beef on top of fry bread, or stuffed inside the dough before it is fried to produce an American Indian version of the Italian
calzone. This masterpiece, a drink and fry bread slathered in butter and cinnamon sugar can be had for $6 and change.
The fry bread dough, a basic mix of flour, water and leavening, is made in-house and fried fresh in vegetable shortening for each order. In addition to the traditional fry bread made with white flour, the Espinozas use wheat flour, yellow cornmeal and blue corn flour made in New Mexico. Blue corn gives the dough more heft and a subtle sweetness that blends beautifully with the shredded beef or chicken, which is grilled and sliced boneless white meat. The green chile sauce is only mildly spicy, but can be heated up with peppers from the condiment bar.
Tacos come with chopped lettuce and tomato, but customers can add fresh onions and salsa at the counter. Diners place orders there, serve themselves a beverage (soft drinks or one of the Espinoza's own brand of juices) and take a seat; the Espinozas or one of their staff will deliver the food in minutes.
Navajo Hogan isn't fancy: when the weather is warm, the unscreened doors are left wide open, which brings in both fresh air and any insects that might choose to fly by. It feels more like eating at a backyard picnic than in a restaurant.
A word of advice: Saturday night is a risky time to visit, because the restaurant is closed Sunday and Monday. That means cleaning could be under way and the shredded beef might be gone. But you could pick up some fry bread mix and try making tacos at home or hire the Espinozas to cater a private party.
Whether you are making food history by eating your first fry bread or simply making revisions, Navajo Hogan is an earthy place for good, cheap eats.
Navajo Hogan
447 E. 3300 South, 466-2860
Prices: Nothing over $7
Liquor: No
Reservations: No
Child's Menu: No
Takeout: Yes
Wheelchair Accessible: Yes
Outdoor Dining: No
Parking: On site lot
Credit Cards: All major
Anne Wilson is The Tribune's restaurant reviewer. The newspaper covers the cost of meals at restaurants reviewed and there is no connection between reviews and restaurant advertising. Wilson welcomes food and wine news, comments and suggestions at
wilwrite99@aol.com. |