In my suburban CT childhood, there were two types of tacos.  1. Salty, spice-packet-seasoned beef in a hard shell from Old El Paso. 2. Gringo-style, cheesy bombs from Tacos Or What, a local joint frequented by  high-schoolers and hungry stoners.  Neither were remotely authentic, but they were good, cheap fuel for my enormous, adolescent appetite.  When I moved to Los Angeles -- aka Little Mexico -- I finally tasted tacos in their natural habitat.