(1951-1981) The Real Tamale, known by locals as Al’s Taco Shop, is remembered fondly by generations of San Diegans for its fried Tex-Mex style Mexican food. “Everything was cooked in lard, and delicious!” It was a fast, cheap place for downtowners and City College students to fill up. Rolled tacos, enchiladas, beans, and big, fat tamales. That was it.
Eliseo Lujan “Al” Alvarez (1901-1996) returned to San Diego after the death of his mother and restarted the family tamale business from a simple store in front of her home near San Diego City College. Like his father Atanacio Villagrana Alvarez (1867-1944), Al was a housepainter. Contracting lead poisoning from the job made his decision to go full tamale all the much more easy. His mother, Eloisa Lujan Alvarez (1880-1950), had started the business in 1925. She eventually settled in San Diego with her kids, including Al’s sister, Josephine Alvarez Piñeda (1908-1989). Eloisa and her kids made tamales for San Diego’s bigger restaurants and take out. Al learned his knowledge of the kitchen through her. After her passing, Al continued the tradition, and the old taco stand was always packed shoulder-to-shoulder with customers…
Al and Jo in front of The Real Tamale taco stand. Photo, Alvarez family collection.
The Origin of San Diego Fast Mexican Food
“There was a chest-high counter that separated customers from the 1931 Garland gas stove where my grandfather would fry up the tacos in large cast iron skillets,” Al’s grandson, Don Alvarez, describes the place. “Tacos would be served wrapped up in wax paper with a cup of hot sauce. Customers would fold down the wax paper and pour the hot sauce on top of the taco with each bite… You could say that his taco shop was an early version of fast food because people could come in, and within a few minutes have a dozen hot and crispy tacos wrapped up and ready to go.”
“One thing to understand about my grandfather’s tacos is that they were ‘rolled’ instead of flat, and there was a lot of ground beef inside… much more than you would get in a taquito. Two or three of his fat rolled tacos, along with a cup of beans and some grape soda from the old vending machine was enough for most people.”
Al divorced and his wife Margarita Virginia Ruiz in 1970 but kept working the taco stand, probably with help from his sister, Jo. In the 1970s, they had to move a block south to C Street. It was a tiny wood-frame house across from the college, next to Gen Lai Sen Chinese Restaurant (previously an Oscar’s Drive-In). The original location no longer exists; it was demolished when City College expanded into the mid-city area bounded by 12th on the west, Russ Blvd to the north, 16th on the east, and C Street to the south.
Al and his girlfriend, also named Jo, described by one customer as a bleach-blonde gringa “never without a cigarette hanging from her lips,” ran the place through the 1980s, “standing there in flip-flops cooking rolled tacos, beans, and tamales.”
“Those beans were incredible. He served them in little blue paper cups,” confirms Mona Howell. “And if you were lucky enough to squeeze in to stand and eat at the counter, he’d come along and squirt more hot sauce from a squeeze bottle onto your beans.”
Oh, those beans, why were they so good?
Eliseo Alvarez, right, with grandson Don Alvarez, left.
Jo said she added leftover bacon bits from breakfast into those beans, and Al tossed in all the crumbles from the fried ground beef tacos. Yummy, heart-stopping beans…
“I made it to the counter every time, so I’d dip the tacos in the beans, which were so addictive. It also meant poor Al had to keep replenishing my bean sauce forever. The whole thing became a ritual for everyone at the counter,” continued Howell. “But right when I thought I had it all, he handed me a tamale in a paper boat. Not a little flat tamale with one end folded. A huge, round baseball-sized masa and beef creation wrapped in corn husks and tied at both ends with string. Then Al would cut it open between the supporting strings and fill it with that damn sauce.”
“I’m growing a little tired,” Al admitted in 1981, so he decided to sell the business and retire to the Lost River Resort (after all, he was eighty). He’d been dishing out his family’s food to local businesses, downtown employees, and students for over fifty years. Fishing on the Colorado River sounded good.
The Real Tamale Company became Maria and Jesse Navarro’s La Casita for over thirty years, then La Casita Mexican Diner with Eddie Hernandez and Sergio Haro’s fresh Mexican food, patio dining, and attached gardens.
During the Maker’s Quarter development craze, the entire East Village block (once home to The Real Tamale, La Casita, Oscar’s, Copacabaña, and Gen Lai Sen) was demolished for a high-rise that never happened. Ten years later, it’s still an abandoned pit…
We’d be happy to hear — what do you remember about Al’s Taco Shop? Describe some of your favorite dishes in the comments below.
East Village
Al’s Taco Shop (1975-1981)
1247 C Street
San Diego, CA 92101
East Village
Real Tamale Company (1953-1975)
1421 B Street
San Diego, CA 92101
East Village
Real Tamale Company (1951-1952)
401 17th Street
San Diego, CA 92101
Notes
Sources: Biographical info from vital records, census data, and Social Security applications; San Diego city directories, 1953-1985; Emma Goldman, “New Riffs,” San Diego Reader, 24 Oct 2012; Ed Bedford, “Grow your own veggies at La Casita,” San Diego Reader, 4 Oct 2013; Email correspondence with Mona Howell, Frank Stella, and Don Alvarez, 2025.
La Casita Mexican Diner (2013-2014, Sergio Haro)
La Casita Mexican Diner (2012 – 2013, Eddie Hernandez)
La Casita (1982-2012, Maria & Jesse Navarro)
The Real Tamale (1975-1982, Eliseo Alvarez)
1247 C Street
San Diego, CA 92101
La Casita Mexican Diner shortly before the block was demolished. It was previous Al’s Tacos.