I want my tacos wet. The soggier the better.

I consumed upwards of 70 tacos while reporting our recent 101 Best Tacos package . Together with my colleagues, there were hundreds . For weeks, I drove around town, at all hours of the day and night, eating from stands, trucks and restaurant counters. And of all the tortilla-cradled specialties I encountered, the tacos that stuck with me the most aren’t actually on the list .

By the time I tried the tacos de camaron from Maestro restaurant in Old Pasadena, the final 101 had already been decided. So I’ll use this column to advocate for wet tacos, now.

These are not tacos served with a cup of consomme, like you’ll find at the countless places pushing birria . These are tacos drenched in broth, wet like your clothes after a front-row ride on Splash Mountain.

“We tell people it’s a wet taco when they order it,” says Maestro owner Sergio Martinez. “Some people eat it with a fork and a knife, some people use their hands.”

The two tacos sit back to back on their sides in a bowl, forming a perfect circle. They’re stuffed with plump shrimp, melted Monterey Jack cheese and potato, nestled into a thick, soft corn tortilla. On top and all around is a red broth crowded with diced carrot and potato in chunky squares. Piled over the top and nearly concealing the tacos is a heap of cabbage slaw and pico de gallo.

When I shared my findings with the rest of the food team, people were perplexed. Are they from a specific area in Mexico? Do you dip the tacos? Are they actually wet? How do you eat them?

“We talked about doing a caldo camaron,” Martinez said. “We ended up doing tacos camaron with actual caldo in it.”

He and executive chef Jaritza Gonzalez combined the two dishes and introduced the tacos to the menu in early 2023. It’s a warm seafood stew, queso tacos and slaw all cobbled together into a bowl that registers a solid 10 on the scale, right up there with shepherd's pie and albondigas .

The caldo de camaron drowning the tacos is a rich shrimp broth made from slow-simmered shrimp shells.

The tortillas, made from organic masa from Kernel of Truth , are bulkier than most, the thickness necessary to survive the onslaught of caldo. They’re chewy but not tough, and they taste of pure corn. The longer they sit in the broth, the more they act as a sponge, soaking up the shrimp flavor and the sweetness of the carrots.

I contemplated my silverware and shook my head. I would be eating with my hands. I plucked one of the tacos from the broth and took a bite. The red liquid dutifully ran down my chin and my forearms. Bits of shrimp and potato spilled out the back, despite the unnatural angle of my head. The fork and knife proved more productive, but less fun. I interchanged bites of taco with slurps of the broth.

It’s a striking sequence of textures and temperatures, the warm broth, the cheese, the soft, soggy tortillas and the cool, crisp freshness of the cabbage salad. Some of the Monterey Jack from the tacos spilled out and into the broth, creating blobs of melted cheese I fished out like treasures with my spoon.

These are not the only wet tacos at the restaurant. The tacos ahogados have been on the menu since Maestro opened in 2017.

“This is predominantly in Jalisco, in Guadalajara, served in broth,” Martinez said.

They’re excellent taquitos on their own, seething when they reach the table, crunchy and brimming with shredded chicken. But the real star is the broth underneath, made from the liquid used to cook the chicken. Seasoned simply with fresh lime juice, it’s the sort of elixir I’d imagine cures the flu.

“I always tell the guest there’s no wrong way of eating it,” he said.

He’s not wrong, though one method will likely require the restaurant’s entire stock of paper napkins.

For our full taco list, click here . Let me know if we missed your favorite. I'd like to go try it.

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times .