Ya’ll. I think I must have inadvertently blocked my last meal in Copenhagen from my memory. Really. It was that disappointing (and expensive). It was Sanchez of the Hija de Sanchez taco empire. Every publication and friend raves over these tacos. This resto was a new outpost so it seemed like a decent, inexpensive bet for the last night. It was not.
Let me set the scene to arrive….just under a mile from my hotel, this seemed like an easy walk, but as the stroll carried on, the surrounding area became dodgier and dodgier. I became acutely aware that I was wearing a black dress and carrying a nice bag. First, there was a clearly wasted lady screaming, then hipster drunk folks turning into crazy drunk folks. Then, an incredibly sad, and massive homeless camp along the side of what must have been an abandoned warehouse. Then, there were all the sex shops and strip clubs- my favorite of which was advertising “p*ssy beer.” (I’d come to learn later that this was not the ice luge effect I had in my head, but that ladies actually poured beer taps via this method. WHAT). Then, there was the truly crazed man, screaming and tearing (Hulk style) his clothes off. What the literal F%*#.
At one point I saw a cab and considered hightailing it back to tourist center, but I was so sick of spending money that I forged in via foot. Tacos. I wish I’d just spent the money and sat along a canal.
Cute window though, no?
Anyway. Had to set the scene for this tiny bowl of chips that came with some cheesy sauce as well as a very spicy/smoky pepper oil dip.
My seat at the bar (it was packed despite being super early) offered me this view.
I skipped the tasting menu (thank goodness) and opted for a couple of small plates. The guacamole and chips were bland but something to munch.
Then, I tried the octopus tostada which was quite spicy and delicious.
Finally! The tacos of the day wouldn’t disappoint right? It was pork and onions today. How could that go wrong after all I’d heard about them, right?
Wrong. Oh so wrong. They were absolutely swimming in grease. There was no way you could have picked this up with your fingers. I had a few bites from the top, hoped that the tortilla would absorb my grease and just cut my losses- $80 in losses – for three small plates (one was guac), a glass of wine and a Corona. Not cool.
The best (worst) part was that as I was mid greasy taco course, a family of two adults and two children also sat at the bar next to me. Rather than ask them to wait a few minutes, they had me pick up all my food, drinks, bag, and jacket to move down the bar. Ya know, so the children could eat a tasting menu at a bar. Seemed appropriate. I’m not an ass, usually I volunteer to move down in this scenario (and there aren’t kids), but I was so disenchanted and probably mid-bite, that I was real rage-y.
Moral of the story- skip Sanchez. I don’t care what Bob Appetit or your friends who tried tacos at the food stall say. The experience was awful. Rushed, worse than mediocre, and pricey. If you’re a solo traveler and worried remotely about your safety, I would skip this experience even if they were the best tacos on the planet.
Maybe it’s better if your apertif is a p*^%y beer?