Figuring out what doesn't belong in a taco is easier than listing what should be there. No lettuce. No cheese. No tomatoes. No crunchy shells. Instead, fried flour tortillas, the small size, doubled up so the filling doesn't soak through. Onion. Cilantro. Meat of your choice. Green and red sauce on the side, along with a lime wedge. And that's it. Sour cream and guacamole need not apply. Tacos don't come more authentic than the version served up at El Gallo Jiros, a humble taquería two minutes off I-55/70 less than ten minutes from the Arch. It may be anathema to gringos who consider bigger to be better, but this is the kind of food that's actually served on the streets south of the border. They usually run out of pollo before lengua, which is all good, so far as we're concerned. And at $1.50 per copy, it's about as cheap a lunch or dinner as you're likely to find. Cherokee Street was never this good.