At $5, this is not a cheap taco, but once you take your first bite and recover from the onslaught of the ghost chili's eye-watering heat, you'll realize the texture of the thing—the combination of tender, braised pork; crunchy, crouton-like cracklins; and chili threads—is worth the few extra dollars. Plus, it's a big taco, with a fist-sized hunk of meat wrapped inside a handmade flour tortilla that manages to withstand the grease. Two of these make a meal, and if you put on a few extra dollops of the restaurant's bottled ghost chili sauce (made from bhut jokolia peppers flown in from Hawaii and available for $10), your mouth will be so scorched you won't be able to taste the third. That's where Taco Asylum's beer enters the picture, especially whichever pale ale happens to be on draft or, if you drink your juice from the can, try an Allies Win the War.