The truck stops here: If there's any justice for actual talent in this world - a premise I remain agnostic about - Los Potosinos will one day grow up to be a real, and long-lasting, restaurant. In a strip-mall parking lot, Los Potosinos' upbeat Mexican-music-playing trailer stretches a simple "awning" over three roomy tables to create a shady, comfy little "patio" for its faithful fans.

The truck stops here: If there's any justice for actual talent in this world - a premise I remain agnostic about - Los Potosinos will one day grow up to be a real, and long-lasting, restaurant. In a strip-mall parking lot, Los Potosinos' upbeat Mexican-music-playing trailer stretches a simple "awning" over three roomy tables to create a shady, comfy little "patio" for its faithful fans.

Specialties of the truck: There's so many here, but one item clearly stands out - which you might've guessed from a nearby big-ass grill. In fact, Los Potosinos' famous grilled chicken (Pollo al Carbon) brought big eyes and wide smiles to the eager, almost giddy, taco truck team.

The poultry arrived darkly crusted, but juicy and tender. Flavorwise, it tasted of smoke, and a perky (but not hot) spice rub that gently flattered the bird meat. Served with fluffy Mexican rice, creamy refried beans sprinkled with cotija cheese, sliced avocado and warm corn tortillas, it was "good-restaurant" impressive.

But so were Los Potosinos' chili rellenos, flautas and their empanada-like Enchiladas Potosinas.

If you dare: Self-styled adventurous types might try the tripe, because Los Potosinos knows how to prepare it right. It arrives (in a taco) nicely crisped up and tasting like decadently fatty pig meat - hit it with hot sauce and lime and you'll be feeling fine.

Limited time offers: Once again, there's a lot. Most are available on weekends, like borrachos (spicy tostada-ish "hangover cures" made with beans and cactus), elotes (irresistible Mexican-style corn) and, during warmer months, helados (ice creams).