I never realized that there was an the original thing that Taco Bell was mimicking when it introduced the gordita to its menu however many years ago (speculation: greater than three years, less than 10).
In fact, I never knew that the gordita wasn’t entirely a Taco Bell invention until, famished at 11 a.m. and needing a break from the usual neighborhood suspects, a tiny thought popped into my head: I wonder if Las Poblanitas does breakfast?
Hmmm …
The answer: Yes, yes they do. And, like the majority of the lunch options I’ve tried here, it’s damn cheap and good.
However tempted I was by the $1 breakfast burrito ($1!!), I had to have a gordita, just to put this whole Taco Bell inventing-the-gordita fallacy to rest. (For the record, Taco Bell’s gordita is basically a taco, wrapped in a second, thicker, soft pita-taco shell.)
So, what does a $2 gordita consist of? As Las Poblanitas does it, a gordita begins with a lightly-fried pita pocket made out of corn masa — think, the softness of the masa part of a tamale, but pita-thin, with browned exterior, plus warm tortilla chip smell. The shell is then stuffed with chicken or pork, warmed, and further stuffed with some cojita cheese, lettuce, the diced onion, cilantro and tomato mix.
All in all, a really satisfying savory snack. Toward the bottom, as the fillings taper off, I topped off the rest of it with a good shake from my desk-size Cholula hot sauce (yes, really).
Today I tried the $6 chicken tostadas, a new lunch special written on a whiteboard that’s shown up outside the restaurant recently, some sort of addendum to the lunch specials posted on 
Three large tostada rounds (all tostadas start with what is basically a big, circular chip) emerged from the kitchen smeared with beans and topped with diced chicken, ready for the the receiving line treatment: shredded iceberg lettuce; diced tomatoes, onion, cilantro; pickled jalapenoes; cojita cheese. White sauce? Yes, please.
In my mind, one of the charms of Las Poblanitas is the no-frills decor, which includes the Corona ladies on the ceiling. It’s festive, in a basement-hangout sort of way. Cold beers in the fridge, decent Mexican food, Corona models beckoning: What more can one ask for from a hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint?
Today I ordered off the regular menu — (as opposed to the ridiculously-cheap lunch menu advertised only by signage on the southeast corner of Eighth Avenue and W. 38th Street). I suppose the $3 more I paid for my enchiladas made with Oaxaca cheese was for the side of rice and beans that comes with the “entree” version, but overall the enchiladas were, well, not enchiladas. They were slices of cheese rolled into (good) corn tortillas and smothered in a verde sauce.
Real enchiladas, at least in my mind, emerge bubbling hot, swimming in sauce, the cheese inside and on top stringy and melty, on the verge of oozing. I’ve made enchiladas before at home (note to self, where is that tofu and black bean enchilada recipe…?) and the whole principle of the dish is that it’s a baked dish. Parts get softer, parts get crispier, all of the flavors come together as it bakes away.
OMFG. Now that is a taco. 
Best. Lunch. Deal. Ever.
