Alejandra Cavazos has a soft spot for strays. Growing up in McAllen’s Mexican sister city, Reynosa, she took in feral cats and loose dogs, a practice she stopped during her time at university in Monterrey. Cavazos received a PhD in international affairs there before moving to McAllen with her husband, Rafael Ramirez. 

Ramirez and his family own the Rio Grande Valley chain Tortillas Aries. At the shop’s McAllen location at the corner of Pecan and Ware, Cavazos; her business partner, Antonio Monzon; and Ramirez have set up La Prieta Mamona, a taco trailer named in honor of one of Cavazos’s pets, La Prieta, a black Lab–pit mix. “It’s dreadful, because supposedly rescue dogs are so grateful,” she says. “Well, [La Prieta] is not. She has the attitude of a diva and she’s very picky with her food.”

The word “mamona” is an impolite term in Spanish for a woman who is stuck-up, entitled, and thought to be in need of being put in her place. But, like the word “chingona” before it, “mamona” has been reclaimed to refer to a strong and bold woman. In the case of Cavazos’s business, it’s also a nod to the trailer’s strong and bold food, a wonderful mix of Mexican, Mexican American, and border-style dishes. The owners embrace Mexico and the borderlands as one cohesive culinary unit, and they educate customers about regional specialties and identity. 

One exemplary dish is the elote appetizer, served in a cast-iron skillet with layers of white corn and a sprinkle of smoky morita chile powder. Another is the blue corn quesadilla served open-faced with huitlacoche (nutty corn fungus) in a net of milky white cheese. I was especially impressed by the vegan flor de jamaica taco, cradling wrinkled, pink hibiscus petals. A vegan taco made without meat substitutes is a relief to see. I balanced the hibiscus with joyfully throat-itching salsa macha, the oil-based condiment’s nuts, sesame seeds, and clumped chiles sticking to the filling. 

An al pastor trompo stands regally, with its layers of red-hued pork and white fat, next to a moody, goth trompo negro rig, representing the traditions of Mexico City and Monterrey, respectively. Instead of fajita meat, La Prieta Mamona serves arrachera (in this case, either hanger or flank steak). The juicy, rich beef, which is not the standard base for a taco estilo matamoros, is capped with salty queso fresco and creamy avocado on the Matamoros tostada. Another tostada, this one named the RGV, is dusted with Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and is unabashedly fun. “If we had a children’s menu, that tostada would be on it,” Cavazos says with a laugh. “Kids love it.” I love it too. All of the tostadas are named after border cities or regions, including the Tijuana, with a heavy slather of guacamole, and the Valley, loaded with queso fresco and avocado slices.

There is also a section of vegan tacos. The aforementioned blue corn quesadilla is listed in that category, alongside a taco de fideo seco, a northern Mexican dish of reddish-brown vermicelli-like noodles sans broth (which fideo, a soup dish, typically includes) in a corn or flour tortilla. The taco showcases ingenuity and reminds us that almost anything belongs in a tortilla.

On each of my visits, between February and May, at least one table was occupied entirely by women—elders treating their granddaughters to a few tacos or a group of young ladies meeting for lunch. Cavazos told me that’s because the truck doesn’t sell the regionally standard portions of five or six tacos to a plate, but rather single tacos. “It’s very common for the ladies between forty and fifty because they don’t eat a lot,” Cavazos says. “But then also, I think the music that you put or that you play in your place means what kind of clients you will catch. So we put salsa and flamenco on.” But it’s more than those things. La Prieta Mamona is a safe space for women, and that’s in large part due to Cavazos’s background in civil service. She exudes inclusiveness and hospitality.

A PhD in international affairs isn’t the typical background for a taco-truck owner. But Cavazos, who has a strong sense of social justice, is as suited to making tacos as she is to serving people.

“Well, the thing is, and I’ll be very honest, is that I’m kind of disappointed with the system,” she says of working with UN organizations. Her doctoral thesis focused on the effects of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) in the transborder zone of Reynosa-McAllen. “How are the people living right now? Do they have quality life? Are they having enough public services? To be sure, with this, the answer is no,” she says of her findings. “In Reynosa, the people don’t have the quality life that they deserve.”

Starting the taco truck was a way for Cavazos to apply her research and analytical skills, as well as find a creative outlet. She and Ramirez enjoyed going out for tacos, and she didn’t have a scholarship to continue her research. “The idea of the tacos came into my mind, like social research. What is the need? What is the problem?” she says.

One need was to support the Mexican corn industry. Corn is one of the victims of NAFTA. In the wake of the document’s ratification, corn exports to Mexico replaced the use of native Mexican corn in the country, which devastated local farmers. U.S. corn usually amounts to 90 percent of Mexico’s annual imports, and more than 30 percent of U.S. corn is exported to our southern neighbor, according to the USDA.

It’s ideal but not always practical for restaurants to nixtamalize heirloom Mexican corn to make their tortillas. Cavazos does the next best thing. She uses the tortillas from her husband’s brand, Tortillas Aries, which are made from non-GMO Maseca imported from Mexico. “I have a responsibility,” Cavazos says.

It’s just another example of how La Prieta Mamona is prioritizing local foodways and traditions—and having lots of fun while doing it.

La Prieta Mamona
3618 Pecan Boulevard, McAllen
Phone: 956-777-5399
Hours: Monday–Thursday 12–11, Friday–Saturday 12–12, Sunday 2–11