Marcelino Pan y Vino has neither pan ni vino; at least not in the way you’d think. The name comes from a famous Mexican legend, and the Eucharist connotations are evident in a plethora of religious paintings and figurines throughout the space. “Space” is being generous—the inside would burst at 20 diners, and is more or less a double-wide trailer with linoleum floors. Behind a steam-table, ladies roll out tacos, gorditas, quesadillas, and whatever’s on special.

At one visit, that special was a tender chicken drumstick in cocoa-rich mole, accompanied by smoky refried beans, rice, and homemade tortillas, all for $6. Each taco is double-stuffed; there’s hardly room to add freshly chopped pico de gallo or hot salsa verde (split the stuffing in half and make two tacos from the extra tortilla). These are our favorite chicharrones in the city, the pork skin fried until crisp with just a bit of softness in the middle. Barbacoa’s unctuous, with crunchy bits of fat and cartilage titillating each bite; even tender and juicy chicken fajitas are superb. Carne guisada can get soupy, but has the rich mouthfeel that can only come from a long, slow cooking. This teeny taquería is way off even the Eastside’s beaten path, but isn’t too far from the Saturday farmer’s market, should you need a little post-shopping somethin’.