Customers at this chill taco truck range from Potrero-ites in sleek eyewear to working guys in uncool ball caps, but the vibe skews more homie than hipster. Credit the fusty, roasted-barley smell wafting from nearby Anchor brewery, a ghost of SF's blue-collar past. The food is just as burly, even though some taco fillings are tasty enough to seem almost elegant. Take lengua, which delivers soft, gray hunks of tongue doused in mashy tomatillo salsa. Tinga - chicken stewed with onion and chipotle-spiked red sauce - gets a lift from feathery bits of cilantro. All delicacy ends at the Torta Cubana, a mayo-gilded sammy weighed down with three meats: seared ham, shingle-like slices of roast pork, and a pair of split, blistered hot dogs. It'd fuel the most punishing workday -- assuming you survive.