Made-to-order flour tortillas are the center of Taco Heart

I get a sense of childhood wonder every time I watch a fresh flour tortilla being born at Taco Heart. It begins as a stubby little puck of dough that slides through a roller machine and emerges flat as a pancake. But that one-dimensional round quickly springs to life on the hot stone surface of the comal. Within moments, I smell the roastiness of tawny spots beginning to freckle its underside. Then it’s flipped and ... poof! It blows up like a tortilla balloon, alive with heat and wheezing fragrant threads of steam.

“Try one fresh!” says the cook, handing me a still-hot tortilla from behind the plexiglass counter. It’s deflated now but flaky and pliant, and its myriad layers harbor so much subtle flavor, I could eat a pile of them on their own. These aren’t the generic flour tortillas I’d known from the supermarket or burrito chain.

No, these flour tortillas are the magic canvas of breakfast taco dreams, soon to be rolled into hot little bundles around fluffy eggs and chorizo, or silky refried frijoles with cheese and smoky blades of bacon, or crispy migas chips suspended in eggs against creamy moons of avocado and pico de gallo.

The question is: Will Philadelphians — weaned on bacon, egg, and cheese kaiser roll sandwiches — make Texas-style breakfast tacos a habit?

Nano Wheedan, 42, who literally wears Taco Heart patches on his sleeve, and whose wedge-shaped building in Bella Vista is covered with a colorful heart-themed mural straight out of a Care Bears cartoon, is clearly passionate about his aspiration to become Philly’s breakfast taco evangelist and, by extension, an advocate for made-to-order flour tortillas.

“Eating one should hold a sense of deep comfort, of feeling safe and loved,” Wheedan says of his hopes for customers’ first interaction with his tortillas.

It’s a joyful revelation the Mount Airy native knows well after becoming obsessed with breakfast taco culture during 15 years in Austin, where he chased his piano man dreams (as Nano Whitman) and also became director of operations at the much-loved Home Slice Pizzeria. Coincidentally, he happened to befriend a dough master and poet there named Philip Korshak, now of South Philly’s Korshak Bagels.

“I never saw a kaiser roll in Texas,” the breakfast sandwich-loving Wheedan lamented. “But I soon came to understand that the flour tortilla is their bread. It’s a soulful expression of love and place. … And when I had my first chorizo and egg taco at Maria’s Taco Xpress, I flipped out: This is what I’ve been needing.”

I’ve long been partial to the earthier flavors of fresh corn tortillas because of my steady exposure to restaurants in South Philly’s large Mexican community, whose immigration has largely come from central regions of Mexico where masa is king. A freshly griddled tortilla made from Pennsylvania grown and nixtamalized corn with tender Capulhuac-style lamb at South Philly Barbacoa remains one of the city’s most transcendent meals.

Corn tortillas sourced from nearby Tortilleria San Roman are an option at Taco Heart, too. But Wheedan, who returned to the Mid-Atlantic with his wife, Carinne, at the outset of the pandemic, has certainly opened my eyes to the charms of a fresh flour tortilla. Unlike bland and gummy industrial varieties, these showcase multiple textures and a deep savor. There’s the delicate snap of its toasty exterior, the pillowy fluff of its steamy inner seams, and the unctuousness of two fats — in this case lard and butter — that lend a complex richness and the pliability to mold its expanse around an infinite variety of fillings.

The options at Taco Heart are fairly standard for the genre, from classic egg with chorizo, or refried beans and bacon, potatoes, and salsas. And they’re not much to look at from the outside. One breakfast taco, all bundled up in foil in a bag to go, looks pretty much like the next one. The difference is in the details. The care not to overcook the eggs, which continue steaming once rolled. The incorporation of ingredients directly into the eggs while cooking. The silkiness of the beans. The deliberate size and texture of the meats and other add-ins. Each contributes to the harmony of flavors in each bite.

I was a fan of the hearty Migas Maximas tacos, whose eggs are laced with crunchy chips, jalapeño, queso, and sausage, but also the broccoli, bacon, egg, and cheese taco — a Wheedan favorite that offers a hint of veg-forward virtue, but which other Texans pointedly told me is “not usual.”

True to the moment, Taco Heart began as a pandemic pop-up, and Wheedan, whose experience is primarily in the front of the house (including his role in helping to launch Korshak Bagels), is clearly still shaping his full vision for Taco Heart’s future.

The breakfast taco trade is already brisk, as the tortilleros churn out between 500 to 700 tortillas on a busy day. But there are other items on this tight menu worth noting. The hearty breakfast bowls are his nod to the carb-averse crowd, though if you add the “puffy chips” – and how could I resist? – that perhaps defeats the purpose.

And those puffy chips merit your attention. They’re made from raw masa dropped into the fryer (vs. the typical precooked round) and emerge like the love child of a tortilla and a wonton chip, with craggy, heat-bubbled surfaces that grab Taco Heart’s chunky fresh guacamole, milky white queso (a little too much Philly cream cheese in there for me), or his trio of salsas, including an earthy guajillo, a tangy verde, and a zippy puree of jalapeños and garlic.

Chewy Texas praline cookies and mason jars of butterscotch pudding made from piloncillo raw cane sugar are available to round out a proper meal.

But with tortillas this good, I can’t help but wonder about Taco Heart’s potential beyond breakfast, which may be necessary to aid its quest for sustainability in a town where the learning curve may be slow. Wheedan has been understandably cautious about the challenges that expanding hours and menu concepts might propose. But it’s on the table. There’s been talk of fajita kits in the warm weather future, recent collaborations with Scott Hanson’s North By Texas barbecue (which resulted in a morita salsa that might be Taco Heart’s best), dreams of fish tacos, and maybe even a streetery to encourage the largely takeout crowd to linger (and BYOB) with house michelada and margarita mixes.

One recent initiative that’s already full of promise is Taco Heart’s new Sunday Braise, a preordered takeout pan of slow-cooked meats, fixings, and tortillas, with pickups smartly timed for halftime of Eagles games. It’s been intriguing but also a work in progress. We loved his bone-in short ribs braised in guajillo gravy, but the portion wasn’t as large as advertised. A follow-up week featured an enormous helping of pork shoulder cooked with chilies and citrus. But it was unexpectedly bland, and had the texture of a strange roast rather than the shreddable tenderness of carnitas.

Wheedan will be the first to admit he’s not a trained chef aiming to reproduce traditional recipes so much as a tortilla missionary cooking the Texas-inspired flavors he enjoys. Even so, a little more professional help in the kitchen could go a long way in fulfilling this passion project’s considerable potential. These fresh tortillas are already so special, Taco Heart — and Philly — deserve it.

1001 E. Passyunk Ave., 445-230-0345; tacoheart.com

Tuesday-Friday, 7:30 a.m.-12 p.m.; Saturday and Sunday, 8 a.m.-1 p.m. Look for details on Sunday Braise specials on Instagram.

Dining room is not wheelchair accessible, however there is an accessible takeout window.

Gluten-free options are available with corn tortillas that are stored and prepared on a separate surface.