For five days out of the week, the folks of Tacos 5 y 10 get to work at the edge of Mid City.
By midafternoon, the corner of Hauser Boulevard and Apple Street is already bustling with street vendors — someone is selling Pokémon toys at one spot, another table is set up with secondhand goods and, a few feet away, a team of two is pushing elotes. Drivers cruise by at a glacial pace, stuck in traffic looking hungry, or stressed.
The taco team starts to set up at 3:30 p.m., unloading tents, a grill, their hot and cold food sections and a couple of tables and chairs for seating. They move pretty quickly; within 30 minutes they turned a bare street corner into an al fresco taco booth.
Daniel Martinez, the co-owner behind Tacos 5 y 10, forgot water gallons, so he jumps in his pickup truck and heads back home, just a few streets north.
It’s not yet 5 p.m. (their starting time for selling), but the flames are firing up on the grill and out comes el trompo de al pastor with chunks of pineapple. It’s a sight to see, but really the attractions here are the handmade tortillas as their bellies bubble up on the grill. The scent of warm corn and grilled meat waft by, battling the 10 Freeway overpass’ junky air.
By this time, the other street vendors are wrapping up. It’s spring, so the sun is still out, but the traffic is diluting.
A curious person gets out of her car and checks out the menu. After mulling it over a few minutes, she orders the first meal they sold that day.
Her dollars went to support a street vending business, one of about 50,000 in the Los Angeles area.
She probably didn’t know that Martinez’s hustle began at 6 a.m. that day.
The system behind it
Martinez’s microbusiness is part of an ecosystem that fuels this city. A 2015 report notes that street vending is a $504 million industry in L.A. — that number is probably more robust now almost a decade later and with inflation.
Vendors have been working on the streets of L.A. for decades, but a lot of it was in the shadows — and carried with it the risks of fines, or worse.
It was just a few years ago, in 2018, that the state decriminalized street vending. After that, each county or city had to apply its own health codes and permit rules.
Last year, the California Health Retail Food Code was updated to make things easier for folks using carts to sell food.
We’re talking about working class communities that make less than $20,000 a year that you’re expecting them to [push] through this blueprint cart approval process to sell hot dogs on the street.
He was a lawyer who represented street vendors in 2022 to pass the updated legislation.
And earlier this year, the Los Angeles City Council voted unanimously in favor of an ordinance that eliminates many “no-vending” zones. The Hollywood Walk of Fame, for example, is a famous — and lucrative — spot where street vendors were prohibited, and this vote was a win for them.
Still, vendors and the city have some differences to work out. There’s a May 16 deadline for the two sides to either settle or go to court.
'A legit way'
Back at Tacos 5 y 10, Martinez knows about the local requirements and permits to sell food. He admits he is working on them to formalize everything to run a smooth operation, but “the process is exhausting” and time consuming.
For him, the process to become permitted is worth it as an entrepreneur — he says he thinks about payroll, working with vendors and filing his taxes.
“At the end of the day, you have the liberty of selling and making your own money and doing it in a legit way for you to prove that you [are] actually doing something to society,” he says.
It’s not always easy. Martinez says he didn’t pay himself a salary last year because he needed to raise wages for his three workers and pay the increase in produce prices as inflation has gone up.
Bringing his culture to L.A.
Martinez, 30, is an Angeleno by the way of Tijuana. He grew up there before he came to the United States 15 years ago with his family.
Like many others, the pandemic thrust him into changing course and beginning a small business. Martinez has a business management degree from Cal State Northridge and wanted to apply it in real life. He and his mom, who is a co-owner of Tacos 5 y 10, chose to create a fusion of Mexican traditions from Tijuana, Oaxaca and Guerrero — the latter two states are where his parents were raised.
He and his mother start prepping at 11 a.m., dicing, slicing and marinating the goods. Together they make enough to sell 140 orders on busy days.
The name Tacos 5 y 10 comes from an open air swap meet that sets up on the sidewalk in Tijuana, Martinez explains, describing his childhood with fond memories. It was a place to gather, be happy, eat and enjoy.
“For me there's no way to go back home,” he says. Cooking this food at the stand most nights, “is what reminds me of home.”
Their menu has a little bit of everything Mexican — tlayudas, platos de carne, spicy salsas, a mean guacamole, horchata and, of course, tacos. Martinez also tries to bring a vibe: sometimes having a speaker with music and setting up string lights to illuminate their food stand in the quiet neighborhood.
The concept behind Tacos 5 y 10, Martinez says, is to create a meeting place for folks to have a good time. Yes, the food is important, but the service and atmosphere is what sets businesses apart.
“You can go to La Chancla, El Gato Market or even to La Placita Olvera, and it's all about family and spending time with others, like having a good time,” he says.
And I think that's the motivation I have to keep hustling and to keep pushing this.
He has plans to use the taco stand as a catapult to create more business and opportunities. He wants to introduce people to the things he loves and knows — he’s already doing it with his family’s food, and he’s also thinking about music and comedy (one of his other passions).
The end of the team’s shift winds down at 10 p.m. The same time the nearby eateries, like Alta and Vicky’s All Day, on Adams Boulevard close.
The difference with Tacos 5 y 10 is that they leave the corner with no trace they were there. But Martinez and his team will be back at 3:30 p.m. to set up the next day, and probably the day after.
Sometimes we see a pop-up on the street we are like 'Argh, another pop-up,' but you don't take into account the hours, the hard work, the fear of being on the street... We take street food for granted.
After today, I know we have to respect this hustle.
