Mushroom Carnitas Tacos

Mom called Tuesday and I could hear it in her voice before she said anything. The way her pitch goes up half a step when she's managing something. She said Dad's been having trouble with his hands — dropping things, fumbling with the gate latches, his grip not what it was. She said it's probably just age. She said sixty is when hands start going. She said it like she believed it, which means she doesn't believe it, because Colleen Gallagher only narrates the obvious when the truth is something she's not ready to name.

I asked if he'd seen a doctor. She said, "You know your father." I do. Patrick Gallagher would set his own broken leg with baling wire before he'd sit in a waiting room. I said, "Make him go." She said, "I'll work on it." She'll work on it. That means she'll mention it once a day every day until he gives in out of sheer erosion, which is how Colleen Gallagher has won every argument since 1986.

I spent Saturday trying something. The commissary had flank steak — thin, tough, cheap, the cut nobody wants because nobody knows what to do with it. But I know what to do with it because Dad taught me: you salt it, you get the grill screaming hot, and you cook it fast — two minutes a side, no more — and then you slice it thin against the grain and it's tender. The grain is everything with flank. You cut with it, you're chewing leather. You cut against it, you're eating silk. It's the same piece of meat either way. The difference is whether you pay attention to the structure of the thing.

I made a kind of taco situation. Flank steak sliced thin, a lime I squeezed over it, salt. No tortillas — didn't have any — so I ate it off the knife. Which is not a taco. It's just meat and lime and a man standing next to a grill. But the acid from the lime cut through the char and the beef was good, better than the commissary price suggested, and I stood there eating thin slices of flank steak as the sun dropped behind the Rockies and the sky did its Colorado thing and for ten minutes I wasn't thinking about anything except how the lime changed the beef and how the char changed the lime and how everything in cooking is just one thing changing another thing and that's enough.

Called home again Sunday. Dad answered. Thirty seconds. "How's the leg?" Getting there, I said. "Okay." That was it. I didn't ask about his hands. He wouldn't have answered. Gallagher men don't discuss the parts of themselves that are failing. We just keep using them until they work or they don't.

That flank steak off the knife was enough for the moment, but it wasn’t something I could hand anyone else—couldn’t share it, couldn’t make it again the same way. What I kept thinking about afterward was the acid-and-char combination, the way lime reorganizes everything it touches. These mushroom carnitas tacos are the version of that idea that works at a table: the same citrus brightness, the same fast heat, the same principle that the structure of a thing matters more than the price tag on it.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb oyster or king trumpet mushrooms, stems trimmed and caps torn into large strips
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Juice of 2 limes, divided
Juice of 1 orange (about 1/4 cup)
8 small corn tortillas, warmed
1/2 white onion, finely diced
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
1 avocado, sliced
Lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Season the mushrooms. In a large bowl, toss the torn mushroom pieces with olive oil, garlic, cumin, smoked paprika, chili powder, oregano, salt, and pepper until evenly coated.
Sear hot and fast. Heat a cast iron skillet or grill pan over high heat until smoking. Add the mushrooms in a single layer—do not crowd the pan. Cook undisturbed for 3–4 minutes until deeply charred on one side, then toss and cook 2–3 minutes more.
Deglaze with citrus. Pour in the orange juice and juice of 1 lime. Let it reduce and caramelize around the mushrooms, 2–3 minutes, stirring occasionally. The liquid should mostly absorb. Taste and adjust salt.
Warm the tortillas. Heat tortillas directly over a gas flame or in a dry skillet for 30 seconds per side until lightly charred and pliable. Keep wrapped in a clean towel until ready to serve.
Build the tacos. Pile mushroom carnitas onto each tortilla. Top with diced white onion, cilantro, and avocado slices. Squeeze the remaining lime juice over everything just before serving.
Serve immediately. Bring lime wedges to the table. The char and the acid do the work—don’t skip either one.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mushroom Carnitas Tacos — The Taco Situation That Got Me Through the Week