NYC Pt 3: Taco Bowls At Trump Tower
"Trump Tower is a brass and glass hymn to wealth. The luxurious New York residential tower expresses the Trump style, blending the ego of the developer and the aspirations of the resident." — Herbert Muschamp (architecture critic)
TACO BOWL AT TRUMP TOWER
Stepping into Trump Tower feels like entering an extravagant, gold-plated fantasy—a playground for a bygone era of wealth. I imagine plenty of aged, outdated men of money reside here. The grandiose atrium, where Trump's taste is stamped on everything, greets you with crystal chandeliers and marble floors gleaming so brightly, you half expect them to demand a tip. Amidst this dizzying spectacle, it feels as if you've stumbled onto the set of a high-stakes sitcom where the punchline is always about who has the shiniest shoes or the biggest yacht. It's flashy, lavish, and obnoxious, yet somehow undeniably inviting.
Past the Gucci and Tiffany boutiques, the city's elite are invited to open their wallets to array of Trump branded transactions. If you ride up the golden escalator to the upper floors, as Link did, the view of Manhattan offers a panoramic promise of what success looks like from 50 stories up. We didn't do that. We came strictly for the taco bowl.
Trump Tower, stretching majestically at 725 Fifth Avenue, stands as a testament to Trump's vision of luxury and power. Conceived in the late 1970s, the project was initially met with skepticism as Trump sought to transform a prime location into a symbol of opulence and success. Overcoming zoning hurdles and neighborhood opposition, he partnered with architect Der Scutt to design a sleek, bronze-glass monolith. The tower's construction, beginning in 1980 and completed in 1983, was an intricate dance of engineering and ambition, featuring 58 floors of mixed-use space crowned by lavish penthouses. The building's shimmering facade, gold-accented interiors, and cascading atrium waterfall embody the quintessence of everything we associate with 1980s extravagance. Despite controversies and critiques, Trump Tower has cemented its place as a New York City icon, representing a unique blend of architectural prowess and the relentless pursuit of grandeur. But who the hell lives here now? That's a footnote I couldn't crack.
In the gift shop of Trump Tower, adoration for the man himself is on full display, crammed into every available nook and cranny—a kaleidoscope of red, white, and blue. MAGA hats stand proudly next to miniature replicas of Trump, while shirts, mugs, and keychains emblazoned with "You're Fired!" celebrate his bravado. "America First" slogans stretch over all kinds of items, a testament to his bombastic personality captured in loud consumer form. Amidst the shelves adorned with glossy books extolling Trump's business acumen and political prowess, nods to his golf courses and other luxury resorts glitter, offering a glimpse into a lifestyle of opulence that feels both aspirational and distinctly unapologetic. Amidst the fervor, there's an underlying irony that bleeds through the racks of Trump-themed ties and teddy bears: in this shrine to celebrity and power, the souvenirs themselves become both homage and satire, a tongue-in-cheek nod to the larger-than-life persona that continues to polarize and captivate the nation. Roger, the ever-enthusiastic shopkeeper, makes it very hard to walk away empty-handed. I spent $85 on items promoted by Roger at the register.
At Trump Grill, we just missed Don Jr. and company dining together after court; our server was quick to inform us. Her name is Camy. She's been working in the Tower for 19 years. The Trump family adores her and that adoration is mutual. One of the recurring delights along this journey has been interviewing members of Trump's staff. They all have a glowy kind of affection for him and are happy to talk about him on camera when asked. Camy is shy but obliging when we request a photo with her. She takes her hair down and smiles for a quick snap of a flashed Polaroid shot of the two of us, but we don't keep her long because she is off, and there’s no feeling quite like being off the clock and ready to bolt.
Several items on the menu honor Trump and his family members. The Ivanka Salad sounds exotic, but this is not a fashion lunch. The warning from Olivia is that it's rather basic and boring, not exactly living up to its namesake. Sadly, a Tiffany soufflé is nowhere to be found on the menu. Taco bowl it is.
The way Trump promoted it, I was sure it was just another of his many exaggerations. I was wrong. The taco bowl is a clear winner. So tasty it will invite new cravings anytime I'm in the city. Imagine the ultimate beef taco bowl—a large crispy tortilla shell filled with tender spiced beef nestled on a bed of cilantro-lime rice, topped with juicy diced tomatoes, crisp shredded lettuce, creamy avocado, and a zesty lime-infused sour cream. Vibrant pico de gallo melted cheddar and Monterey Jack cheeses, garnished with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime, creating a tantalizing fiesta (pronounced with Trump inflection) for the taste buds in every bite.
"Trump Tower remains a quintessential piece of Manhattan architecture, blending Trump's distinctive style with the allure of prime real estate. Its design has stood the test of time and continues to attract residents and visitors alike." — Architectural Digest
Business Insider was less impressed. They sent an editor to review it after the infamous Twitter post. It served merely as a kitschy way to mock Trump's enthusiasm for the bowl. Or just mock Trump in general:Â
"Last December, we ventured to Trump Grill — or Grille, as it's spelled on some of the restaurant's signage — to try its taco bowl and other items on the Trump Tower restaurant's menu.Â
The first thing that we noticed was the price. This casual Tex-Mex classic seemed out of place in the gilt-laden grill. However, the price matched the over-wrought glitz — at $18, it was the most expensive taco bowl either of us had ever witnessed. Today — five months and one new president later — the price has raised to $19. For the 'best' taco bowl, we would be willing to pay the big bucks. So, we ventured on. On first chomp, it seemed that Trump's tweet may have held some truth. The crunchy bowl seemed to have come fresh from the deep fryer, pleasantly warm and crisp.Â
However, inside, things were more pedestrian. The Trump Grill taco bowl contains ground beef, pico de gallo salsa, guacamole, iceberg lettuce, sour cream, and cheddar.Â
A taste of each ingredient within chipped away at our golden first impression. The guac was bland and goopy. The pico de gallo only served to make the bowl soggy, instead of adding some much needed pep. The ground beef was tolerable, but underseasoned. The cheese was straight from the bag — classic shredded cheddar. And iceberg lettuce? Even most fast-food chains have ditched that watery mistake. Sad!Â
The taco bowl perfectly epitomized the problem we found with most of the items on the menu at Trump Grill. The level of quality promised by the elevated prices and the aristocratic atmosphere — not to mention Trump's own rave reviews — simply did not match the actual quality of the food.Â
For $18, we wanted something fresh and exciting. Instead, we got bamboozled into paying more than twice as much for something that Qdoba does better."
Don and Hilary bickered over it - Second post pointed out by Politico.
The Hollywood Reporter's review also got political over it. The article critiqued Donald Trump's infamous Cinco de Mayo tweet celebrating "Hispanics" with a "taco bowl" at Trump Tower Grill by highlighting problematic points: the inauthenticity of the taco bowl as a Mexican dish, its roots in American fast food rather than Mexican cuisine, and the irony that it's not even served at Trump Tower Grill but at another restaurant in the building.Â
It meant to expose the superficiality and tone-deaf nature of Trump's gesture, portraying it as a prime example of cultural misappropriation. By tracing the taco salad's evolution from a Fritos-based novelty to a modern, often health-conscious dish, the article sought to illustrate how Americanized ethnic foods can drift far from their cultural origins, turning a would-be cultural tribute into a commercialized caricature.
Now, no one would ever accuse me of being a foodie, so I have no business rating dishes. Still, the casual dining experience amid Trump-themed luxury is a lovely and unique aspect of the Tower.
Of all of his noted exaggerations, take it from me—the Trump Tower taco bowl shall not be counted among them. If you're brave enough, go ahead and add it to a list of your NY to-dos, pass it along to traveling friends, and thank me later.
The ice cream at the lower level of Trump Tower is a hidden gem. Business Insider and Politico are rags. Your writing is far superior. We have the best tacos, folks. Many people are saying this.
Seeing the pic of Trump and his taco bowl from May 2016 makes me sad- I remember that pic- - -
- - - then I must have blinked, because we are all here, 8 years later- - - look at his smile- the personal stress and the stress of a nation have taken their toll in ways we never could have imagined.