Maricela Hernández in her metal cockpit, where she cranks out Northern Mexican specialties like burritos and quash quesadillas. — Photos by Scarlett Lindeman

It is a promising sign when your Bushwick burrito comes sans Styrofoam container. Historically, burritos are the original Northern Mexican to-go meal — a self-contained edible package to transport spoonfuls of stewed meat and beans when not eating at home. A respectable burrito does not parade across platters as oversized enchiladas, covered in sauce and sour cream, with sides of rice and beans. It requires no knife and fork, just a delicate hand and able mouth.

Last week I carried a foil-wrapped beauty home from Tacos La Carcachita, a newish neighborhood taco truck.  With a string of lights and a colorful cartoon car banner, the backdoor neon sign boasts "BEST MEX" in loud LED lights. Though I will not claim their supremacy — the burrito’s bulging flour tortilla, almost translucent from lard and swollen with a mess of beans and braised beefy lengua, speaks for itself.

	Tacos La Carcachita Wyckoff and Palmetto Food: $2-7
	Quesadilla calabacita: squash, blossoms, and white cheese.

Maricela Hernández, a Queens resident originally from Pachuca in central Mexico, is the owner.  She bought the truck in December and has been cricketing around popular Bushwick intersections before settling on Wyckoff Avenue just below the Myrtle-Wyckoff hub. "The police don’t bother us here," she mentions, as they did when their wide freight was parked directly underneath the M train tracks.

In addition to burritos, the truck serves the standard roster: tacos, tortas, cemitas, and flautas and squeeze bottles full of salsas to adorn them. The milder red version, dark with dried chiles, carries the pleasant bitterness of a carefully pulled espresso, and just as much earthy depth.

Competition for taco dollars is tough; some days, there are at least three other taco vendors parked near the intersection. Hernández admits that business fluctuates, "mas y menos" from week to week. Nevertheless, there are always locals on their lunch breaks chomping down oreja — pig’s ear — tacos while passersby study the menu offerings, like the quesadilla calabacita, a sturdy hand-patted tortilla encasing sliced summer squash, orange squash blossoms, and stringy white cheese.  It is toasted on the grill, then lubricated with crema and a tart avocado salsa, and may be the best vegetarian snack in the neighborhood, an onion’s toss from the L train.

"What does carcachita mean?" I asked, reaching for another weighty burrito. The woman with the metal spatula turns, giggling at my question. Hernández smiles. "An old car. Kind of like, when you are on the ranch and you have a dumpy car you use to load up chopped firewood, or something like that."