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I hopped into the taxi, not wanting to waste one precious minute, immediately informed the driver that I needed — not wanted, needed — a taco. And not just any old tourist taco. A genuine Mexican taquería taco. Sensing that his tip might depend more on his advice than his speed, he asked if I could hold out until we got to Tulum. Being some 80 miles south, it's no short drive from the Cancún airport, but he assured me he knew just the place, right outside the entrance to town.

And that's how I made the greatest discovery of my trip: Urge Taquito, which loosely and delightfully translates to “Quick! I need a taco!” OK, it wasn't so quick, but I did need a taco, and this unassuming little eatery delivered the goods. Ninety minutes after my impassioned taco plea, I was chowing down on some superb guacamole, a caught-that-morning shrimp cocktail and a trio of tacos: two of perfectly fried fish and one of grilled shrimp. It was ambrosial, not least because I washed it down with an authentic ice-cold michelada, a beer cocktail made with Worcestershire sauce, lime and chili powder. Better yet, the bill came to a not-so-whopping $12. Try finding that at a tourist restaurant.

Stalking tacos wasn't my sole reason for coming to the Riviera Maya, but it may as well have been. I love eating tacos in Mexico. There's something pure and unchanging about their very humbleness. A warm, soft tortilla made fresh from maize. A savory filling of grilled meat or fresh seafood. A dollop of tangy salsa to top it all off. Voilà, the taco.

The classic taquería is ubiquitous throughout the Riviera Maya. It's usually an open-air joint with metal tables, plastic chairs and cement walls, and it's often smelled before it is seen, the tantalizing aroma from the grill wafting into the street. A plain, unpretentious setting seems to be a mark of quality, and the menu is defiantly simple: no quesadillas, no burritos — and no hard-shell tortillas either. There are no vegetarian options and no salads, other than perhaps a plate of mouth-cooling radish and cucumber, along with the usual garnishes of guacamole, chopped onion, cilantro and lime.

Some taquerías are devoted to meat: beef, pork and chicken sliced and grilled on a slab of steel or over charcoal. Others stick to seafood — fish, shrimp, even octopus. They have varying hours, but there always seems to be at least one open, in deference to the Mexican custom of eating tacos whenever the mood strikes: for breakfast, lunch and dinner, of course, but also to tide over an empty stomach during the long haul to the region's de rigueur late dinners. And after a night on the town, it is common to stop for a restorative taco or two before heading home.

For me, though, tacos are more than mere fuel for frolics in the sea and adventures in partying. They're also an entree to cultural tourism, a pretext for interacting with the Riviera Maya's hospitable locals beyond the tourist haunts. Approaching a taquería elicits smiles from locals proud to serve up a sampling of their national dish, while a sneaking a glance at fellow diners' plates prompts a flurry of suggestions on what to order (a wonderful way, incidentally, to practice your Spanish).

Upon decamping to my final stop, the buzzing beach town of Playa del Carmen, I sought the taquería-tracking tactics of David Reyes Jaramillo, the chef at trendy Maya restaurant Yaxche and maker of a marvelous plate of tacos de cochinita pibil. “Use your nose,” he said. “It's a reliable judge of quality.”

Heeding his advice, I sniffed my way to El Fogón, where the mouthwatering aroma of barbecuing meats told me it was the real deal. Besides pork, beef and spicy chorizo, El Fogón offers tacos al pastor, a popular dish made by marinating a leg of pork in dried chiles, then slowly cooking it next to a gas flame on an upright spit grill, a technique introduced years ago by Lebanese immigrants. The succulent meat is then sliced into thin shards and served with chopped onions, cilantro, a dash of lime and hot salsa.

El Fogón is a local favorite, but savvy out-of-town chowhounds inevitably find their way here. The menus are written in Spanish, and the waiters don't speak much English, so it helps to go with someone fluent in Spanish. Either way, you'll find a warm welcome and a delicious meal.

My last night in town, I consulted that other great arbiter of local food, the hotel desk clerk. He directed me to Tako's Light, at Juarez and Fifth Avenue. I couldn't find it, so I asked a local hurrying by. “Just there,” she said in Spanish, pointing to a pushcart at the side of the street that was surrounded by a dozen people. A man tended sizzling pieces of steak, chicken and pork on a steel grill while his wife took orders and then handed the readied tacos to clients. Following the lead of the crowd, I eagerly accepted my taco and assumed the practiced position of the standing taco eater — a slight forward lean, my little finger daintily holding up the back end of the tortilla to keep the juices from dribbling down my shirt and trousers.

As I stood there savoring my little taste of heaven, I remembered something Jaramillo told me about tacos: “The tortilla is the foundation of our cooking. It is plate, cutlery and napkin. Add salsa and meat, and you have a taco.” I did. And I enjoyed every last bite.

El Fogón, on 30th Avenue near Calle 6, Playa del Carmen

Tako's Light, at Fifth Avenue and Juarez, Playa del Carmen

Urge Taquito, on Highway 307 just north of Tulum

Yaxche, at Fifth Avenue and Calle 22, Playa del Carmen; 52-984-873-3011