100 Years and Counting: Cafe de Tacuba of Mexico City

I think it is safe to assume that one hundred years ago things were quite different. That is about the extent of my historical knowledge: a long time ago things were really different than now, and more recently things were a little less different. But in different ways. Deep, I know, but lacking some important details I admit.

Luckily there are sites like Wikipedia, where historically accurate or not, you can find all sorts of information on what was happening 100 years ago. For example, New Mexico became a state in 1912. This may come as little surprise, but I didn't know that. Fenway park in Boston hosted its first baseball game 100 years ago, making it baseball's oldest stadium. That I did happen to know, mostly because it was on TV. And the Titanic both set sail and hit an iceberg 100 years ago. I might have guessed that because I thought Leonardo DiCaprio was looking a little old these days. Wait, didn't he drown? He really is resilient.

So maybe things haven't changed all that much after all. Once again, the internet has caused me to re-think history and facts as I know them: Leo is still flourishing in his acting career, people still venture out on large boats through fields of icebergs, New Mexico is still a state and the Red Sox are still losing to the Yankees. Maybe things are exactly as they were 100 years ago.

This point is reinforced at Mexico City's Cafe de Tacuba, which turned 100 on December 13, 2012. Cafe de Tacuba has always been a favorite of mine, and my wife and I make a point of visiting almost every time we are in the capitol city.

We happened to walk in on the aforementioned anniversary date, and true to its timeless nature, didn't notice anything different about the place: Same straightforward but well-executed menu. Same waitresses and hosts dressed in historic outfits.

Same intricate azulejos tile-work. Same shimmering stained glass windows. Same historic paintings, from a distinguished portrait of the legendary (and wonderful, I might add) poet Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz to gastronomic-themed oils depicting the "discovery" (by Europeans) of chocolate and mole.

We did end up ordering both mole and chocolate--my wife with the latter, a thick-though-light, creamy and decadent hot chocolate  Me, a plate of huevos con mole. My mole was fantastic, embodying all the desirable characteristics of a slowly cooked, carefully prepared chocolate-forward mole: sweet, bitter, pungent, rich and ever-so-slightly spicy. I happily mixed it in with my beautifully fried eggs, done Mexican-style, so the bright yellow yolk just warms, but runs every which way on the plate.

They also brought us each a tamal and a little cup of atole, a sweet masa-based hot drink popular around the holidays. The tamales included red and green versions with pork and chicken, as well as a divine tamal de mole.

It was another great meal, made even greater by the fact that they were giving every table a 50% discount as well as a coffee mug marking the historic occasion.

Not too many restaurants last 100 years. Colorado's Buckhorn Exchange has made it 119 years at last count, but these days making through the first year can be difficult enough. As trends come and go and as bubbles continue to burst, it is nice to see the lasting power of a place like Cafe de Tacuba. Next time you're in Mexico City, take a step back in time and visit them. 100 years of doing it right means you are unlikely to be disappointed.

Cafe de Tacuba is located on, well, calle Tacuba just steps from the Metro Allende and a short jaunt to the Zocalo. 

Tarasco's New Latino Cuisine: Masterful Mole and More

Many, many weeks ago my wife and I met some friends in what was a rare but much-needed rest during my frenetically-paced September. Completely wired and simultaneously tired from a month-long toxic mix of caffeine, a computer screen, and squealing infants all through the wee hours of the night, I decided it was time to finally check out a place that had been at the top of my list for a while now. I am referring to Tarasco's Nuevo Latino Restaurant which was recommended to me at least two years ago by the knowledgeable Examiner reporter Thomas Spahr for its made-from-scratch mole.

Mr. Spahr

Mole is something that is hard to find done right. There are good moles around town to be sure (El Diablo, Laughing Ladies, Chili Verde, El Paraiso to name a few), but the best I have had Stateside have been those I have made in my own kitchen using Patricia Quintana's Mulli recipe book as a guide. When Mr. Spahr touted Tarasco's as Denver's best, I knew I had to go. I just didn't plan on taking two years to get there.

If you have ever arrived at Tarasco's and ordered mole from its menu without an explicit recommendation from someone else then I commend you. Located just South of the busy Alameda and Federal intersection, it is understandable that you would drive right past it on the way to one of your other favorite taquerias, pho shops, Banh Mi bakeries or other "ethnic" eateries. If you originally set out to find Tarasco's, it would be no fault of yours if you missed it, as it is hidden at the end of a narrow parking lot, and there doesn't seem to have been any concerted effort to advertise its presence closer to the street. If you did manage to get as far as the parking lot, you would have had to push your way through the thick plumes of smoke coming from the dispensary next door and fight off your sudden growing sense of apathy.

One-stop shopping

Next, as you pondered whether or not you should open the door and step inside for some Mexican food, you would not be alone in having second thoughts, as the outside walls are plastered with signs touting the great--indeed "los mejores perros calientes"-- hot dogs. If you decided to enter, you were greeted with even more signs tempting you to try the hot dogs (I didn't have any, but even a bacon-wrapped Mexican hot dog can't beat a good mole). If by now you hadn't already ordered a hot dog (because you now had the munchies), you sat down to open a busy menu full of many typical Mexican platters. If you made your way past the first page and onto the second, there was a small section of "Especialidades". Here were your two mole options. If you ordered them, well done.

The hot dog sign is bigger than the restaurant sign

To be fair I have not sampled the hot dogs or many other dishes from the Tarasco menu, but for your first visit here there are really only three places you need to look for ordering options: One is the "Specials" board on the back wall, the second is the aforementioned "Especialidades" section of the menu and third are the items highlighted with an "*". It is not really clear what the asterisk refers to, but take it as a subtle hint (versus the explicit hot dog signs) that will take you down a path of great Mexican food.

From the asterisk-ed menu items we started with the guacamole. A mash of avocado with any combination of cilantro, onion, tomato, garlic and chiles is bound to be good, but the Tarasco's version was truly great. It was full of big chunky onions, copious amounts of cilantro and healthy portions of both tomatoes and jalapenos. I believe it was even mixed and molcajete-d to order.

The nopales were my wife's favorite, as this Mexican cactus is not often on Mexican restaurant menus in our city--much less done two ways. She chose the nopales asados over the ensalada and we were not disappointed. The grilled nopales were perfectly cooked so as not to be rubbery nor particularly slimy, and simply seasoned with salt. A generous squeeze of lime and a few dabs of a hot red salsa made for one of the better nopales I have had on either side of the border.

Tamales de elote might seem like a redundant choice: corn masa filled with corn--but the corn filling inside of these steamed corn masa appetizers was creamy and sweet; and over the top was drizzled that typical and fabulous Mexican crema, which is much more like crème fraîche than your usual sour cream.  

For the mole there were two options, a red "siete chiles" mole and a green tomatillo-based one. Each (I preferred red, my wife green) is the the kind of plate where you may very well find yourself "mmmm-ing" out loud as you savor every rich, complex flavor. As you feel the chile's heat slowly build in your mouth after layers of sesame, garlic, cumin (and too many more to even guess at or list) you may smile or even burst into spontaneous laughter that you could have a mole this good in a place this far from Mexico. In fact I have eaten my fair share of moles in Mexico, and besides a few experiences of very literal mole nirvana--one at a table with Chef Quintana herself, the others during a homestay in college with a family in Morelia--Tarasco's was better than most of them.

The siete chiles: dark and rich; bitter, nutty, sweet and then pleasantly spicy. I got mine with shredded pork carnitas. Absolutely incredible.

The green mole: lighter and more acidic likely from the tomatillo base. Also a rich and complex mix of flavors but without as many layers as the red siete chiles. Still it was an excellent mole and reason enough to make a trip out here.

Other menu items sampled at our table that night were impressive as well. A highlight was this house-made huarache piled high with among other things thick cuts of nopales and smothered in the excellent red mole.

I could go on and on about the great food we had. In fact I will for just a bit. It is worth mentioning that Tarasco's also has an impressive assortment of fresh made liquados (shakes) and jugos. There are more combinations of fruit and vegetable drinks than would seem necessary, and the health benefits of many are found lining the walls of the restaurant along with Mexicanismos, or dichos (sayings), that are always good for a laugh. My favorite, loosely translated, read: "Guns are loaded by the devil, and fired by pendejos."

One last menu item I need to cram in here are the churros. For whatever reason I have had the hardest time finding a good churro in this town, and Tarasco's has one of the better ones I have tried. It was nothing special; just perfectly fried, sweetened and served piping hot. A fitting way to end one of the best Mexican meals I have had in Denver.

I am kicking myself (which is a step up from the usual: other people kicking me) for taking my sweet time to eat at Tarasco's Nuevo Latino Cuisine. The crew and owners of Tarasco's clearly take pride in their food and take the time to do things the right way. The result of their careful efforts was for us a most memorable Mexican meal. I would urge you not to make the same mistake I did and get to Tarasco's as soon as you are able. And maybe next time I'll get around to trying that hot dog, but only if it's covered in mole.

Denver al Pastor Take 10: Toluca Mexican Restaurant in Westminster

You know that taco smell? Not the enticing aroma of chopped meat sizzling over grill, but rather the odor that lingers on your clothes and hair-- that seems to ooze from every pore of your body--after you spend any amount of time in any respectable taqueria. It is the smell you carry into your office after a taco-lunch at which your co-workers jealously sniff in the air as you pass. It is the smell in your lovely wife's hair as you snuggle up and fall into a restless taco sleep after a late-night taco run; and it is the smell that you still have on your jeans when you go to put them on the next day. And although I don't dislike this clingy olfactory residuum on my clothes, breath and wife; I must say that it is not the most agreeable smell on a baby.

I learned this a couple weeks ago when my wife and I dined out for the first time with our babies at Toluca Mexican Restaurant in Westminster-- and even though the righteous taco-smell we left with forced us to  change and sponge down our babies once home, Toluca is much more than a taqueria. In fact they have a full bar and a large, though minimalist, and mostly pictorial menu that includes a wide variety of Mexican specialties. But it wasn't carne asada or menudo that we were here for. No, I dragged my family all the way up to Lowell and 92nd specifically for some tacos al pastor thanks to some some enticing photos sent to me a few weeks back.

Tacos al pastor are, of course, my raison d'etre (if you remember, they even made their way into my wedding) so when someone shows me pictures like that it doesn't take long for me to track down their source (although it takes me longer these days that ever before). When we arrived at the out-of-the-way strip mall from whence aforementioned spit originated I immediately asked to see the meat-stack they had going that night; and when I asked if I could take a picture, they invited me right back into the kitchen to check it out.

The staff at Toluca is incredibly friendly and inviting. They seem to do their best to take care of each and every customer, and for people like me that show a particularly keen interest in the going-ons of the kitchen, they are especially cordial. In fact after I had snapped a few photos it wasn't long before Victor, the affable patriarch of Toluca came out to talk with us himself.

By this time we had before us heaping plates of tacos al pastor and tacos de pescado. He introduced himself and immediately we began talking pastor. The first thing he did was apologize for the small size of the current spit, which as we all know is meaningless when it comes to taste, but nonetheless Victor was right: more pastor is better. When he sensed that I was more than a casual eater of tacos al pastor he disappeared into the kitchen and emerged seconds later with his secret spice rub for me to sniff.

This is a most unusual from my experiences in my wife's native Mexico City, where pastor recipes are guarded with ferocity and debate rages on not only about which taqueria has the best, but who invented it in the first place. But Victor is from a small town in the state of Puebla, so I guess he is more relaxed about those things, and it's not like he told me all the details-- but a whiff of the rub mix was strong with cumin and garlic.

It turns out that Victor is really passionate about his cooking. A few minutes later he emerged from the kitchen with a mole that he had just made from scratch. "No Doña Maria in there," he told us, referring to the ubiquitous (and remarkably decent) grocery-store jarred mole. "Mole Poblano," he proudly told us again. Made from scratch. Making mole from scratch is a tedious and delicate process and his did have the complex taste of a well-crafted version: smoky heat, bitter, earthy and rich. I was becoming more and more impressed with Victor and his little Westminster outpost.

It turns out he has always had a penchant for food. He started out years ago making carnitas at home and slinging them from his car by the kilo all over Denver and Aurora. He then did the same with tacos and as his business grew he took over Toluca Mexican restaurant a year ago.

At this point I had not had a chance to take more than a couple bites of my pastor, and as happy as I was to talk food with this man, my first bites of pastor were so good that I was practically drooling over my plate as he talked to us. Indeed these tacos al pastor are among the best I have had in Denver, and I can see how outside over open flame sliced right onto a taco (how Victor does it when he caters outside) it could be unrivaled in the metro area.

Besides the almost perfect taste, my favorite part were the absolutely perfect slices: thin, delicate and slightly charred; crispy but with plenty of marbled layers of gooey fat. Exactly how pastor should be sliced. Fresh pineapple balanced the bold flavor of the marinade and I'll say it yet again because it bears repeating: a superb taco al pastor.

The slice of pastor is ever-so important and I appreciate the efforts that Victor and his taquero go through to make every slice so thin and delicate. Too many taquerias take a great marinade and just about ruin it by carelessly hacking away at the meat, resulting in big, uneven chunks. In the US this has become all too commonplace and I let it slide because options are few and far between, but in Mexico City, the arguable home of pastor, these places wouldn't last a week with hack knife-jobs like that. In fact in the DF they take it to another level altogether and slice so quickly and deftly that the slice literally flies through the air and is caught on the tortilla-- never once touching a hand or plate.

It wasn't too long before I had mowed my way through the huge taco plate and ordered two more small tacos al pastor. It was at this time that Victor engaged us in a conversation about another hard-to-find Mexican specialty, Chiles en Nogada. This seasonal dish is served in conjunction with Mexican Independence Day in September and is a gloriously patriotic plate of a stuffed roasted chile (green) topped with a cold sauce of walnuts and goat cheese (white) and sprinkled (red) seeds of a pomegranate. He wanted my wife in particular to sample his sauce as this is one of her absolute favorites, and while his sauce had more of a heavy sour-cream taste (versus delicate goat cheese), it was still quite good and is another item that will keep us on the hook to return soon.

Before I forget, my wife's fish tacos were also very good. A mixture of shrimp and grilled fish, they were fresh and the fish was not over-cooked. It was no taco al pastor, and I can't imagine a scenario that would have me ordering those tacos while that spit of meat was roasting so close by. Nevertheless, if fish tacos are your thing, I would venture to say you would like these tacos.

I got my second round of tacos and as I was going to take my first bite Victor signaled to me as he was coming out of the kitchen. Beaming, he tilted the plate in his hand so I could see the perfect Mojarra Frita he was about to serve. He gave me a look like, "You know you want this." I did, but I was too full of pastor.

Before leaving I did something that I almost never do. I told Victor what I do in my spare time and told him I would like a picture for my piece. He responded the way most taqueria-owners do when I tell them: "A blog?" Then a look that either says: "What the hell is that?" or "What's wrong with you?" But true to his amiable ways he consented with a big smile even though I'm not sure he understood exactly what I wanted to do with this picture, and brought me back into the kitchen so that his family and cook could pose as well.

Toluca Mexican Restuarant is home to some great tacos al pastor but I also saw--and sampled-- a lot more. Victor and his mostly family-led crew are attentive hosts and purveyors of excellent Mexican food from tacos to regional specialties like his mole poblano and chiles en nogada. And in addition to being a family-friendly restaurant they do have that full bar along the back wall (which always makes family-time much more fun). So I encourage you to head on up to 92nd and Lowell in Westminster to visit Victor and company for some of Denver's finest pastor.

El Diablo Comes to Broadway

I went to El Diablo a few weeks back with my wife and another couple, one of whom is a Chicano studies professor. In Chicano folklore, he told us over a round of Tecates, El Diablo is often depicted as a well-dressed man that appears mysteriously in town during a fiesta and dances with an innocent and beautiful girl. When she then sees his one hooved foot, and his other like that of a chicken's, she faints into his arms.

A reader recently pointed out that the devil has visited Denver at least once, at Los Caporales night club years back, to woo women with his unparalleled dance moves, or display his unmatched prowess on the mechnical bull depending on who you talk to. The devil is different for all of us. And he comes in many forms. Not sure where that fits into the story of this Diablo on South Broadway, or what inspired the name. But there is one thing I know: Jesse Morreale has set his sites on another Denver neighborhood, put Sean Yontz in charge the kitchen and together they have put together another slick Mexican-themed restaurant with unmatched crowd-drawing appeal.

By now the good folks who over the years have brought us such eateries as Mezcal, Tambien (RIP) and Chama (RIP) have figured out a thing or two about niche marketing, location and bringing Mexican-like food for the masses. They have done an amazing job with their detailed decor choices over the years, and El Diablo is a step up-- both in seating capacity and amount of kitsch Mexicana. If it wasn't because I liked their food and style, I admit the decor at El Diablo would all seem a little bit forced, what with the tall altars a la Virgen side-by-side with Diego Rivera replica paintings next to dia de la muerte skulls, luchadores and other random Mexican (and Chicano) miscellany. That being said, this is one slick low-rider bathroom tile painting:

Orale.

We were there on the second Saturday of September, less than a month after El Diablo opened its doors. There was, we were told, an hour and a half wait. Luckily, my wife and I arrive everywhere we go at least a half an hour late, and that left our poor friends to wait it out themselves. When we rolled in we were already thinking of just getting slices from Famous when to our surprise, our friends were seated at a prime patio table. That's a good thing, I suppose, just not sure how an hour and a half turns into 20 minutes--but this is a new operation-- so a few miscommunications are to be expected.

To clarify, this place was slammed, and there was more than one flustered looking server that passed by us at race-walk speed. I think I read somewhere that they can seat 400, and three weeks in I didn't expect perfection from the service, the timing or the execution, but I know that these guys know what they're doing, so I figured it was worth a try. Plus, I heard they were planning a late-night taco take-out service, and that in itself makes this place worth patronizing. That being said, I am getting old, and just like I was happy to eat outside because it was so loud inside, I will be happy to be in bed by midnight  most weekends instead of taking advantage of the opportunity to eat fresh tacos at 4am. Nevertheless, this is likely the single greatest contribution El Diablo is making to those lucky energetic youngens that hang out into the wee hours on South Broadway.

pa' llevar

But back to the night at hand. Our server was very friendly and attentive. The kitchen and bar, however, seemed like they weren't quite as prepared, as the food took a real (emphasize real) long time to come out, and they were out of my first two beer selections (tap selections from local brewer Del Norte). Fair enough, I'm a patient guy and we were there to relax and enjoy ourselves with friends. As soon as I had my beer, we were happy to munch on fresh tortilla chips (for two dollars and fifty cents) and dip into some familiar salsas.

The chips and salsa are served with I think the same table salsas they serve at Tambien, of which my absolute favorite is the smoky red (chipotle or chile mora?). I like it so much (and am so entirely without shame) that after running out of chips (and waiting too long for more) I started to eat some with my fork.

The menu is full of new taco choices and everything is proudly made in house and sourced locally if possible. They run around $6-7 for a plate of three taqueria-sized tacos. They do also come con copia (with two corn tortillas) and a respectable amount of filling. Below are the lamb tacos, El Diablo's take on barbacoa, I suppose, but not really. They were still very good. A creative twist on a classic with a smoky salsa and queso panela (de la canasta, or the basket).

The steak and potato tacos were quite good as well. Moist chunks of steak, crisp yet soft potatoes, mildly spicy salsa.

My wife ordered the conchinita pibil tacos. They came with black beans, thinly sliced greenbeans and were sprinkled with cheese. They were excellent, the star of our taco sampling that night.

To everyone's surprise I ordered something that wasn't tacos. The duck mole (unlike many traditional moles) was just what you might envision when you think of a mole. It was brownish, bittersweet and rich. The duck was cooked well, but the whole thing needed salt. Just a few dashes, though, brought out the rest of the complex flavors in the mole and combined with some Mission figs and sweet plantain made for a very good dish. (Though check out this duck mole.)

The desserts were amazing and quite possibly the highlight of the night. Background to foreground in the picture below was a delicious capirotada (bread pudding), three flavors of flan (horchata, chocolate Abuelita, vanilla) and a sundae with vanilla bean ice cream, roasted piñones and a habanero-caramel sauce. Each one was better than the next--starting with the sundae and ending with the bread pudding topped with dulce de leche ice cream, which I could have laid down in and rolled around in if there only would have been enough of it.

The rest of the menu recycles some classic dishes form places like Tambien: a red chicken mole, shrimp cocktail, pozole. They also have newer items like a huitlacoche quesadilla and puerco pibil (read Denveater's post for a more thorough run through the menu).

The same astute reader, who enlightened me about the devil's visit to Denver, also engaged me in a stimulating dialogue about Mexican food in Denver. He brought up the point that El Diablo falls into that ironic category of Mexican Restaurants Without Mexicans (MRWM).  El Diablo, however, I pointed out, separates itself from other MRWMs by making good food, using authentic and non-mainstream dishes and executing them well.

South Broadway has been waiting for something like this for years: a restaurant that serves Mexican food worthy of discerning Mexican food lovers like myself, yet hip enough for the typical SoBo hipster and equipped with canned PBR for the old-school Broadway drunks. El Diablo has good food, there is no doubt about it, but it will always fall into that category of restaurants brining mostly Mexican food to mostly non-Mexican diners.

I'm not sure where that debate takes me. I don't think El Diablo is the devil, and I'd rather that Joe Average Hipster learns to like Mexican food from a place like this, and maybe stops calling Hacienda Colorado "Mexican Food" at all. But I do think it is a little sad that people will flock to places like El Diablo and give it rave reviews (although deservedly--it really is quite good), while many other places I've eaten and written about are better-- only more obscure... and more Mexican. Stayed tuned, as I have one of those places coming up. 

Salida's Finest: Laughing Ladies

I really like the town of Salida: the pretty views, the historic homes, the roar of the river, the numerous galleries and... the food. Yes, the food. Unless you've been there, you might not expect to find any really good or memorable food here, and if you read my first post about Salida, you might never, ever want to go. But Salida has a great little dining scene, and for me, the center of it is the Laughing Ladies.

Laughing Ladies Restaurant has long been a haven of playful, fresh cuisine under the skillful and inspired Chefs Margie Sohl and Jeff Schweitzer. I have eaten here many times over the past five or six years, and while many locals will tell you the service is bad here (I did get a bad attitude from the hostess last visit), I have otherwise had nothing but friendly servers serving me fabulous meals.

The menu is rather diverse, but what I always am drawn to is their creative takes on Mexican and Southwestern cuisine. The first dish we tried that night was a chile relleno (pronounced "rah-lane-oh" by our phonetically challenged waitress-- maybe she is from nearby "Bew-na Vis-tah") which was a pan-fried corn-meal-coated poblano pepper stuffed with cheese grits. It was sitting in a creamy cheese sauce and topped with fresh halved cherry tomatoes, pickled onions and sour cream. It was absolutely wonderful.

Next up was a roasted, beautifully blackened, and not too-dry chicken breast and wing. Alongside it was grilled green onions and zucchini. Also a light, fresh cilantro-cabbage slaw and richly flavored pinto beans. This was essentially an upscale version of a dish that one can get at any Mexican-style chicken rosterias for about a fourth of the price, but nevertheless it was fantastic. 

My dish was particularly wonderful and inspired. The centerpiece was a perfectly roasted duck breast: wonderfully crisp skin on the outside and tender, juicy meat on the inside. It was accompanied by the same roasted zucchini that came with the chicken and fresh, chunky guacamole. The real surprise was the tamal that was filled with "duck carnitas" which turned out to essentially be a confit. All of it was bathed in a "mole poblano"-- not the traditional dark mole from Puebla, but an innovative green sauce using green chile poblanos and tomatillos.

Desert was a homemade pound cake, freshly whipped cream, fresh blueberry sauce and a candied orange. It was hearty and incredibly sweet, but at the same time refreshing.

Salida has it all for a relaxing retreat away from Denver, and we try and go back as much as possible. At our bed and breakfast that weekend, my wife and I listened jealously to a Texas couple planning their retirement in the foothills of the Collegiates. Or by the roar of the Arkansas. Or downtown in a beautiful, old historic Victorian. It wouldn't really matter would it? Maybe one day. First I have to figure out a way to retire.