Why’s this corner in Fresno’s Old Fig Garden drawing huge crowds? ‘God and tacos’

Armando Arias Jr. never doubted Tacos El Cabezon would be a success — even after a less-than-stellar opening weekend.

“We didn’t sell very much; a couple hundred dollars,” says Arias, who sold tacos as a street vendor in the Bel Gardens neighborhood of Los Angeles before relocating to Fresno earlier this year. “It was demoralizing.”

Or, it might have been demoralizing, he says, for someone else.

“I knew it was going to work,” Arias says.

“Because I already had a plan. I already had it written on paper.”

Estilo cachanilla ... Mexicali style

Tacos El Cabezon is set up in a highly visibly, but underused corner lot at Shaw and Maroa avenues, near the Old Fig Garden neighborhood, in front of what was once the Orange Store fruit stand. There’s a white food trailer and grill and a few red picnic tables that get tucked behind the building during non-business hours.

You could miss it driving by, save for the billboard on the corner.

And also the throngs of people gathered up waiting for food.

Since opening last month, Tacos El Cabezon has become a spot to try. Buoyed by its strong social media presence, the corner has been inundated with customers lined up for Arias’ take on Los Angeles street tacos.

This is “estilo cachanilla,” per the billboard, which features a cartoon Arias cutting meat from a “trompo” spit and an English translation of the truck’s name: “Mr. Big Head Tacos.”

Canchanilla refers to people from Mexicali in Baja California. That’s where Arias’ mother was born and where he spent every summer until he was 17 years old. It’s where he learned about food.

“My entire life, I grew up eating tacos and my family making tacos. Tacos, tacos tacos.”

There’s asada and al pastor, chorizo and tripas and costillas de puerco costia (that’s pork ribs). Tacos starts at $3 and are served on homemade corn tortillas, or on flour tortillas, which some taco purists may balk at, but it’s what you’d get in Mexicali, Arias says.

Everything (minus the spit-roasted al pastor) is cooked on the grill with open flames and mesquite, either by Arias or one of four employees who followed him up from Los Angeles on the promise of working at the new stand.

Until recently, they’d been staying in a hotel. Arias helped them get into an apartment.

He’s also hired eight new employees to keep up with the demand.

Officially, the taco stand is open from 5 p.m. to midnight Wednesday to Sundays, but they take orders until they run out of food. It’s rare they make it the full hours. “We’ve been selling out every single night, running through hundred and hundred of pounds of meat.”

‘God and tacos’

Each night night before opening, Arias gathers the crew together in a circle. They join hands and pray.

It’s a ritual that reflects Arias deep faith, but also his belief that what some might call success, is actually a blessing.

“More than anything, it’s God,” he says.

“It’s God and it’s tacos.”

There have been struggles.

Arias wanted to have his business open by July, but getting set up at the old fruit stand proved difficult.

The former gas station, best know as the Orange Store fruit stand, operated on the corner for nearly two decades starting in the 1990s. It closed when the property changed hands in 2017.

More recently, it was a specialty flower shop called The Elegant Orchid, but that closed too and the building had been vacant for the past several years.

Taco trailer vibes and expansion

Arias had driven by the space at least once a week for months and saw it sitting empty. But it took some serious Google-sleuthing to figure out who owned the place. And then, there were multiple voice messages, e-mails and texts that never got returned.

“Eventually, I just told him I was going to set up in the parking lot and do it. ‘If you want to collect some rent you can,’” Arias says.

That got a call back.

Arias is remodeling the building for additional indoor seating, with a small bar for beer and wine, but won’t be putting in a kitchen or making this a full-sit down restaurant any time soon.

He doesn’t want to lose the street vibes of the taco trailer.

It’s one of things he misses most about Los Angeles.

“Every single night it was a community event with food,” he says.

“We’re bringing the community together through food.”

For now, profits are being funneled back toward other expansion plans including a just-purchased second food trailer, which will be up and operating someplace in Central Valley soon. He’s taking suggestions.

This story was originally published October 1, 2025 at 1:02 PM.