FIRST PERSON — New Home for Chicago’s Tecalitlan

EDITOR’S NOTE: Karla Garcia and her brother, Juan Carlos Garcia, recently moved their family’s restaurant, Tecalitlan, from its original location in Chicago’s West Town neighborhood after 48 years to a new location in trendy Lincoln Park. Ed Avis, el Restaurante’s publisher, interviewed Karla about the restaurant and the move. This first-person account is an edited version of that interview.

My dad, Carlos, grew up in a rural town in Mexico named El Josefino. He ran away from that small town twice, at the age of 14, to Mexico City. He wanted to work, and he did odd jobs there and the first time my grandfather went to bring him back because one of our relatives saw him and they told my grandpa, “We found him, we see where he’s at.” So, my grandpa went to Mexico City and dragged my dad back. A few months later he ran away again, and his older brother José was in Mexico City so he joined José and they were working at a taco stand. That’s where he learned to make tacos, and that’s where he learned to make salsa, and the odds and ends of street style tacos, I guess you could say.

After that, my dad and José came to the States and started working here in Chicago. My dad’s first job was at a Greek restaurant as a dishwasher at the age of 15. He worked up the ladder, he got up to server. But he wanted more, and he remembered how to make tacos and the sauces and everything they learned in Mexico City. And his brother and himself decided hey, let’s try to make a restaurant and see if it goes well. That was in 1973 when he was 21. And 48 years later, I think it went pretty well.

There are pictures floating out there of me in a little apron cleaning a table at five or six. On Saturday morning my dad would say, “Okay, I’ll see you guys later,” and I’d be like, “Well, where are you going?” and he’s like, “To the restaurant. I got to go.” “Well, I want to go” and he’s

Customers say, “When I come in here it’s like home, I feel like I’m in back at my grandma’s house. I feel like it’s comfort food, because I grew up eating this.” To have a business that offers that to people is amazing. We’re not just offering food, we’re offering food for the soul.

like, “No, you’re going to be bored, you’re not going to know what to do.” And I said, “No, no, no, I want to go.” So he’d be like, “Alright, well, why don’t you wash some cups? Why don’t you clean some tables?” stuff like that.

Before I knew it, I was hostessing at 12, so I felt special. My brothers, Juan Carlos and Danny, had the same experience. They would get chores in the kitchen, like to take off the stem from the jalapeño peppers and quickly learned the kitchen business

My brothers and I started working more in high school until my dad got to the point where he said, “Alright, I’m going to go on vacation with your mom, I’ll be back in a week.” I guess he saw that we were responsible enough and we knew what we were doing. And obviously even though we were 16, 17 and 18 years old, my uncles helped, too. My uncle José, though, had gone back to Mexico by that time, so my dad was the owner.

When Juan Carlos finished high school, he went to Kendall College [in Chicago] for culinary school and then he went to Guadalajara to do a year-long internship there. He learned a lot of old techniques of [making] Mexican food and a lot of new recipes. He incorporated some of them into our menu.

After a while my dad said, “Okay, guys, I’m done. Are we closing the restaurant or are you guys taking over?” We were like, “No we’re taking over, we’re not closing this.” That was in 2005. I was just fresh out of Loyola University [in Chicago], where I had studied communications, public relations and advertising.

At first our dad was like, “I will help you, but I will not be there the whole time.” So, it’s like the parents teaching the kid to ride a bike. He’s running right behind us for a little bit, but before you know it, he was like, “I’m done. You guys figure it out.”

When we first took over, we pretty much kept everything the same, but when my dad left, we decided to add chilaquiles, we decided to add the pulpo la diabla, we decided to add fresh, handmade margaritas. We’re known for margaritas, our burritos, fajitas, mole and our al pastor tacos.

I think people love Tec because of the consistency. My dad was a stickler for consistency, and he taught us. When we would come in to work, he would walk in and start tasting stuff, whatever the chef or the cook was making. He would always tell me, “You have to taste everything because everything has to taste the same as it did last week, a year ago, yesterday, an hour ago.”

Customers say, “When I come in here it’s like home, I feel like I’m in back at my grandma’s house. I feel like

it’s comfort food, because I grew up eating this.” To have a business that offers that to people is amazing. We’re not just offering food, we’re offering food for the soul.

People also love us because Tec is still family-owned and run. We’ve had our bartender here for over 20 years, our head cook’s been here over 30 years, our floor manager has been with us for 20 years on and off. So, they’re not just like employees anymore, they’re family.

In early 2020, our landlord told us that he was going to start showing the building because he wanted to sell it and our lease had come up. But he said, “You know what? Don’t worry, I’m not going to kick you guys out.” Yada, yada, yada. Fast forward to June, and our landlord comes in says he has a contract to sell the building, but in order for the contract to go through the place has to be vacant.

So, we closed up the restaurant August 23rd. Those days leading up were a little tough. I loved hearing stories from people about how they got married there, or they got engaged there, the first meal they had after they had their kid on the way home from the hospital, they had to stop at Tec and get a margarita because now they can drink, you know? So, it was just a ton of emotion and it was great, but that all stayed there, and I cherish all that.

We started looking at other locations in our neighborhood, but the places we saw either needed to be built out, or the rent was too crazy, or a little bit of both, and so we were like, “You know what? We’re tired, we’re overworked,” so we decided to take a couple months break.

But we got bored and decided to try opening inside a ghost kitchen. That didn’t really work out. We were getting phone calls from customers saying, “Can I come in and sit down?” and we’d say, “No, it’s just literally a commercial kitchen, you can’t sit down anywhere. You have to take it to go.” And they really didn’t understand and they’re like, “We miss you guys.” We’re like, “We miss you too.”

We couldn’t wait to reopen the restaurant. Finally, our Realtor sent us this location in Lincoln Park, which is a different neighborhood but only about seven minutes from our old location. I feel like it’s more family-oriented over here. I see tons of kids all over the plaza. When Carlos and I walked in we’re like, “Wow, this space is really nice.” And when we left, we both agreed that it kind of felt like home like, okay, we’re here. Yeah, it was weird that we both were like, “Did you feel that?” And I said, “Yeah, I felt it. I feel like we belong here.” The Optimal Automatics Autodoner is ideal for preparing cones of al pastor and other stacked meats. Comes in many sizes and models, including natural gas, electric, and LP.