This article is part of FT Globetrotter’s guide to London
In truth, no one really knows where tacos came from. Their blunt simplicity keeps us guessing. Some say they are indigenous to Mesoamerica, enjoyed with small fish long before the Spanish arrived. Others argue they’re a product of 18th-century silver miners. But the fact is that once they arrived, they stayed and became beloved. In this way, they’re embodied by Manolo de la Torre — a man who appeared from nowhere and immediately became established among lunch-timers in Peckham, south-east London, who know him as “Taco Manny”.
I first visited his pop-up, which took over a stall in Rye Lane Market, in November 2023. “Tacos! Tacos!” were his first words, at least to my ears. “The best in London!” I sat down and, for less than a tenner, was presented with three large, gold tortillas filled with meat: slow-cooked beef birria, greasy carnitas (pulled pork) and inexplicably tender ox tongue. The salsa, too, came in threes, perfectly matched, along with a slice of lime. He was right. They really were the best tacos in London.
De la Torre’s pop-up soon became a permanent venue, Guacamole’s, which he runs alongside his wife, Gabriella. Last summer, a lucky encounter with Jonathan Nunn, the founding editor of popular newsletter Vittles, prompted a glowing review, extending the appeal of Guacamole’s beyond local Latinos. De la Torre, a deeply religious man, insists that God was acting through Nunn that day. Now Guacamole’s is increasingly packed and, although its owner has less time to chat, he’s somehow never too busy to tell you his story.
Fast food is in de la Torre’s blood. His grandfather began selling burritos to industrial workers in Veracruz, on the east coast of Mexico, and became wealthy. A family enterprise was born, moved down the generations and arrived at Manny, who balanced professional duties with his nascent career as a DJ (he now runs a night called Tacos and Techno at local music venue Peckham Audio). “I was a blessed man,” he tells me, recounting his old life.
One day, hungover from a gig the night before, de la Torre says he woke to a portentous flurry of WhatsApp messages on his family group chat. His cousin had been shot, and the family was still reeling from the murder of his uncle a year before. He says both were murdered by the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, a militarised syndicate estimated to have more than 18,000 members. “Then they killed my cousin, his nephew,” he continues. “ I think I was next.”
Not long after the death of his cousin, de la Torre says he received a text message demanding an unpayable monthly sum in return for not murdering his family: “At first, I thought it was a food order. I was driving with my daughter when the text came through. The police couldn’t help — they were too afraid.”
After a month in hiding, de la Torre sought asylum in the UK. Upon arrival, the Home Office put him up in a hotel, where he stayed for almost two years. “At first, I was calm because I was safe,” he recalls. “But it’s one year and nine months where you can’t do anything. You can’t work. It’s like living in prison. It was the most difficult part of my life.” In the end, de la Torre’s pastor set him up with an immigration lawyer; he won his tribunal and settled in east London.
De la Torre quickly noticed a gap in the market. “We looked everywhere,” he says, “and we couldn’t find good tacos in London.” This is true: London, a hungry, multicultural city, has a glaring deficit of decent, affordable Mexican food — £10 per taco is standard fare. “This is fast food; it shouldn’t be expensive,” de la Torre insists. “With one kilogram of masa [maize dough], I can make 90 tortillas.”
Despite appearances, tacos are deceptively complex. Earlier this year, El Califa de León in Mexico City became the first of Mexico’s 11,000 taquerías to win a Michelin star, imbibing the corn vessels with overdue institutional recognition. De la Torre takes authenticity seriously. He painstakingly sourced his meat and masa, working hard to revive the flavours of his youth. “Our birria has 17 spices, the carnitas has 12. We taste it, and if it doesn’t taste like [home], we don’t sell it.”
From its permanent spot in Rye Lane Market, Guacamole’s is earnest and unpretentious. As well as the famous tacos (also available as non-meat options), there’s freshly made horchata and tamarind juice, and pozole, a traditional Mexican soup bulked with maize kernels and avocado. But the unsung hero is Manny’s tres leches cake — a sponge base soaked in evaporated milk and other ingredients in a recipe handed down from a bygone de la Torre matriarch.
Mostly, de la Torre enjoys his new life. He complains about the bland cuisine and miserable weather. But, as he puts it, “God is showing up in my bank account.” Part of me wants to keep Guacamole’s under the radar, but Taco Manny deserves the praise — even if he defers all credit to his business partner in the sky. As I leave, he begins to serenade his wife with a love song. She stops working the masa and looks up dotingly before hand-pressing another batch of tortillas, one at a time.
Guacamole’s, Unit 61, Rye Lane Market, 48 Rye Lane, London SE15 5BY. Website; Directions
This article is part of a new series on local gems — the understated neighbourhood restaurants that combine excellent, relatively affordable food with a sense of community. Do you have a favourite local gem? Tell us in the comments
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