If you know someone sceptical about Mexican food, then this place could be pivotally Damascene in winning them over

Every now and again I’ll receive a press release about how a new restaurant is aiming to become a part of the community in which it does business. Spoiler alert: if such aspirations are actually real, rather than bloated PR guff speak, chances are high that they’ll go unfulfilled.

Guacamoles, a taqueria in the food court of Peckham’s Rye Lane Market, on the other hand, already feels like a cherished part of the community despite, at the time of writing, having only been in business for a year. Its customers aren’t just the usual afterwork crowd, slowly demonstrating the ‘alcoholic’ in ‘high-functioning alcoholic’. Grandparents and their juvenile charges alternate between after-school snacks and homework. On weekends, families gather to break bread together. There’s Guacamoles’ own periodic techno nights. And, every now and again, birthdays, anniversaries, saint’s days and other special occasions are celebrated with quasi-spontaneous dancing and music, all in the liminal spaces between the food court tables, Guacamoles and its neighbouring food stalls.

While some of these punters chose to eat from some of the other traders, plenty also partook of Guacamoles’ short yet almost perfectly-formed menu.

Although Guacamoles’ corn tortillas are a touch larger than the ones from La Chingada, they were arguably just as good, if not a little better. They were consistently nutty, soft and fluffy with a subtle moreish edge. Almost all of Guacamoles’ tacos, apart from the ones with deep-fried fillings, received a touch of extra oil. Perhaps this helps keep the corn tortilla soft; it certainly adds a touch of unctuousness. Some might consider this cheating; I consider it high art.

The tongue has to be my favourite taco filling at Guacamoles. Chunky and coarse with a slight offaly funk, yet tender and squidgy in its unctuousness.

The pastor would be an exceptionally close second. The tender, fatty meat thrummed with a fruity sweetness that was almost certainly derived from oranges.

Carnitas was the lesser of the two pork options. Only relatively speaking though – while it didn’t have as much multifaceted charm as the pastor, it was by no means a duffer. The fattiness of the pork was neatly offset by the sharp onions.

Meaty, just-cooked white fish came in a batter of uncommon quality. The dimpled, crumbed coating was not only crisp, but also free of excess grease. It was curiously reminiscent of panko, but with added crunch.

Prawns received the same high-quality batter treatment, so it’s a shame that the prawns themselves were thin and weedy.

Curiously, no cactus, squashes or huitlacoche were used in the vegan tacos, possibly due to the limited amount of space available in the kitchen. The filling instead consisted of peppers, onions and mushrooms. Moist and gently sweet, it was by no means bad, just undemanding and inoffensive.

Although the beef used in the ‘birria’ tacos was tender, it was surprisingly bland – especially for something touted as a birria.

The weakest of the taco fillings was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the chicken. The deeply bland chook wasn’t helped by the bitty knifework.

The quesadilla was an odd beast, tasting almost as much like a dosa as it did a quesadilla. Unfortunately the melted cheese inside was thin and apologetic, almost as if it had been to finishing school, losing its coarse, rogueish charm as a result. Although you can choose to augment the quesadilla with any of the taco fillings, choosing the tongue turned out to be an unexpected mistake. The tongue had been cut too finely, greatly diminishing its texture and therefore its enjoyability.

The sorry state of the chicken tacos is all the more curious given the eminent hold-the-bowl-up-to-your–face scoffability of the chicken pozole. This generously hefty portion of soup had a gently subtle moreishness, perhaps derived in part from the strands and chunks of chicken which were cooked just so. Corn kernels, bobbing around in the soup, had a yielding crispness, while tostadas on the side were nutty and crunchy.

Chilaquiles was just as hearty as the pozole. A heap of totopos had been gently sauteed and then topped with a lightly creamy feta-style cheese and a pair of tingly salsas. I’d usually object to serving/mixing spice and dairy together, as surely they’d cancel each other out. But, in this instance at least, the two were carefully dolloped apart, making it possible to alternate between brow-sopping heat and soothing cheese. Although it’s not quite as enjoyable as the Sunday special version sometimes available at La Chingada, it’s not far off. Plus, Guacamoles’ version gets extra credit for being a permanent fixture on the menu. Until they unsurprisingly run out for the day, anyway.

Although the portion size of the pastel de tres leches is arguably a bit miserly, there’s no arguing with the richness of this sweet treat. Sodden with lactic goodness, yet structurally sound down to the last fluffy morsel, each moist mouthful was delightfully sweet.

A special mention has to go out to the horchata. Milky, delicately sweet and dotted with hints of cinnamon, it was a refreshing delight across multiple visits. It was on one occasion a tad too watery – a rare instance of the kitchen having an off-day.

The Verdict

While its opening hours are on the short side and the waiters stingy with the napkins, Guacamoles not only serves up some of the best tacos I’ve had in London, it also has a warm welcome to go along with it. As it’s strongly favoured by the local community, it would’ve been so easy for the proprietors to coast by on local trade, making little effort to reach outsiders. A local place for local people, so to speak. But they’re more than happy to talk to the nachos-and-margaritas crowd about corn tortillas and meat marinades, even if they only end up ordering nachos and margaritas. So while not all Londoners are ready for Guacamoles and Mexican food worthy of the name, Guacamoles is ready for them.

What to order: Tongue tacos; pastor tacos; fish tacos; pozole; chilaquiles; pastel de tres leches

What to skip: Chicken tacos

Name: Guacamoles

Address: Rye Lane Indoor Market, 48 Rye Lane, Peckham, London SE15 5BY

Phone: 07767348055

Web: https://guacamoles.uk

Opening Hours: Monday-Thursday 10.00-20.00. Friday-Saturday 10.00-21.00. Sunday 10.30-19.00.

Reservations? Not accepted.

Average cost for one person including soft drinks: £20-30 approx.

Rating: ★★★★★