This San Antonio Taqueria Has Had a Tough Year, but Its Quirky Tacos Have Sustained It for Four Decades
Rashid Assad, owner of Roy's Taco Hut, on San Antonio's West Side, likes to talk about the variety of flour tortillas. A former tortilleria owner and Monterrey, Mexico, native, he waxes poetic about their brown spots, as unique as a tiger's stripes; their distinctive, flaky layers; and the merits of different sizes and thicknesses. Roy's excels at its flour tortillas—a smidge thinner than the typical mattress-thick San Antonio–style ones—which are the perfect vehicles for the taqueria's traditional and offbeat tacos.
Despite the fact that Roy's is on its third owner (Roy Avila, who opened the shop in 1978, retired in 2010), the menu and decor haven't changed much over the last forty-some years. Classic rock and folk tunes by the Beatles, Bob Dylan, and Jimi Hendrix are piped in through the PA system. A framed Beatles poster hangs in the front dining room, and on other walls are the likenesses of more rock icons, as well as a cutout design of the famous Abbey Road album cover. The pink exterior with turquoise trim certainly classifies the restaurant as a typical, colorful San Antonio–style taqueria . "It was a lot like this when I bought the restaurant," says Assad, who purchased the taqueria twelve years ago. "So why change it?"
The breakfast tacos are served in a standard size (approximately six-inch tortillas) and a "Texas size" (big enough to fill an oblong dinner plate). The latter, even when shared, is sufficient to satiate the heartiest of appetites. Go for the standard size so you can try more fillings, such as the dark meat chicken guisada (juicy, but needed more sauce), carne guisada gravy (that's right—no meat, just sauce), and enchilada. The enchilada taco features cheese swaddled in a red corn tortilla, which is smothered with chile con carne and packed into a dusty, fluffy tortilla. The yellow cheese stretches in a wonderful manner, and the sauce covers your fingers. Just try not to laugh at the look of yourself eating it.
More-traditional offerings include the potato-and-egg, bean-and-cheese, country sausage–and–egg, and pork chop tacos . The eggs in the tacos aren't scrambled, but rather cracked open onto the flattop and cut up with a spatula, giving them a striped look. The potato-and-egg taco needed more salt, but the green salsa added the right amount of extra flavor and kick. The bone-in pork chop smacked of lemon pepper, and the meat tore easily, even if it was almost dry. The "Texas size" country sausage–and–egg taco I split with a friend had snappy casings on the links and was even better slathered with salsa.
For all the charmingly retro interior design and impressive lineup of tacos, the last year has been a challenging one for Roy's and Assad. In October 2023, a health inspector gave the taqueria a score of 69 (a failing grade, according to the health department's system) for the presence of rodent droppings and dead cockroaches, as well as items in a walk-in fridge that were above the proper temperature. Assad claims it was a matter of getting the wrong inspector. (Brian Reinhart wrote about issues with health department visits in 2018 for the Dallas Observer .) The score appeared on the City of San Antonio Metropolitan Health District web page and was featured in a KSAT story . As is common when a low score is delivered, the health department told Assad that he and his staff had time to address the issues outlined in the report before another inspector conducted a follow-up review. Roy's Taco Hut passed the second inspection. But customer traffic still diminished. "Any other restaurant would've closed by now," Assad says. "We're desperate." It was a shocking event for Assad, who's spent his whole career in food service.
As a young man, he helped his father run a taqueria named Comics, in Monterrey. When the tacos weren't selling, Assad bought some telera and bolillo rolls on a whim and packed them with the same taco fillings. It was enough to give Comics a profit. Later, he opened a pizzeria named Vittorio, also in Monterrey. Twelve years ago, he moved to San Antonio and operated a flour tortilla factory that sold its products wholesale and also dabbled in making wonton wrappers. Then he opened an ice cream–and–paleta shop, to some success, but he wanted a bigger challenge. That challenge has been more than Assad bargained for.
But things seem to be turning around. In late August, Roy's Taco Hut was awarded a health score of 98, an A. Yet Assad tells me business hasn't fully recovered, despite a long line of pickup trucks waiting in the drive-through lane and patrons filling several tables on the day I visited. (It's difficult to judge a business's financial success in one hour.) Assad says the slowdown has hindered his progress in purchasing the land on which Roy's Taco Hut stands.
Ownership of the land would give him a sense of stability and allow him to make improvements to the parking lot and an adjacent building on the property. He's hopeful the land will be his soon. If it is, there's a good chance the West Side staple will live on with its fascinating tacos and one-of-a-kind look.
