One big reason the boho crowd likes Viva La Frida is that the place envelopes you in bright paintings, prints, collages and quirky objets d'art. If you tire of the conversation, you can take a spin around the room and look at the artwork, which includes reproductions of pieces done by the restaurant's namesake, the late Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, as well as other pieces created by local artists.
My dining companion, who happens to be a young artist, pointed out that Frida had spent her entire life painting self-portraits; nearly every picture she ever painted was of herself: "Now, that's self-absorption for you," my knowledgeable pal remarked. I'll say.
Apparently Frida even trumped death, because her aura inhabits this place, right down to the Aztec celebration of life depicted by the many skeletons and skulls hanging in various cheery poses around the restaurant. And though the menu is modest, it mirrors her quirky originality in its fresh, handmade Mexican specialties, infused with fun surprises from her native land, like fresh fruit salsa and chipotle aioli. The food is tasty, reasonable and plentiful.
Viva la Frida is owned by Angelica Diaz and John F. Ames. Diaz previously operated an excellent restaurant in Ybor City called Angelica's that closed in 1996. She moved her business to Seminole Heights, and since December, has been operating this renovated used car lot full-time.
Inside, the decor is spare enough to highlight the artwork. The walls are painted pale pink along one side, its floors a deep, blood red. Intersecting walls outside are anointed with royal purple and burning orange, accented with handmade wrought-iron banisters and gates. Mounted about the rooms are a fascinating assemblage of painted masks, mirrored mosaics, oil paintings of every hue, Mexican-style drapes hanging with Halloween skull-lights, even shrines with crosses and religious icons. Whimsical, but mindful of human sorrow as well.
Outside is a spacious, open-air dining area with tables and chairs that would be swell during warmer months, but alas, on both visits the weather was uncooperative and I ended up at an inside table. Viva La Frida does not yet have a liquor license, but you can drink what you bring. One couple brought their own bottle of wine, which sat in a plastic green bucket of ice.
Though the menu is brief, there's something for everyone. We enjoyed the appetizers, from the delicate tomato vegetable soup ($3.25) to a knockout bleu cheese salad ($5.79) — romaine lettuce sprinkled with sesame seeds and lightly tossed with a fine cumin vinaigrette dressing.
Another one is called mochomos ($4.99), four potato skins dabbed with bits of spicy Spanish sausage, cheese and a green chile sauce, plus a dollop of Thai red pepper sour cream. Probably the best appetizer, though, was called alambres ($5.85), skewers of marinated and grilled beef with a terrific soy tamarind dipping sauce.
We moved onto the main course, where an enchilada dish ($8.99) registered as our favorite entree. The plate held three chicken enchiladas — corn tortillas rolled and stuffed with meat — drizzled with mole Colorado sauce and melted Monterey Jack cheese, and served with generous heaps of mild, Mexican-style rice and a pool of refried black beans.
I like Mexican food hot, hot, hot. I asked the waitress if she had something fiery I might slather on my meal. She smiled to herself, and I thought: "Uh-oh." Out came a small white dish, half-filled with a bright red sauce that turned out to be made with Asian hot peppers. It decimated my taste buds, but in a good way.
One thing the kitchen does particularly well was evident in all the dishes we ordered: The fried food was not greasy. Yes, frying is Mexico's traditional cooking style, but the chefs at Frida's do it lightly, delicately, with care. If you set one of the flautas on a napkin, it would not leave a puddle of oil. Careful frying also provides an additional benefit in that it allows flavors from subtle herbs, seasonings and sauces to shine more prominently.
Those of you watching your weight could eat pretty well at Viva La Frida — order soup, salad and appetizer; finish with coffee. You could even get one of the two desserts on the menu and still be fine. Try the pineapple granita ($2.49), similar to ice cream, but made from fresh fruit rather than cream. It's cold and satisfying, sporting big chunks of fresh pineapple. It fills you up, not out.
If you're counting calories, you can forget about the other dessert, the mini chimichanga ($3.75), a fried, half-size tortilla flavored with almond that crisply encases a glob of warm, smooth milk chocolate. It arrived with a second, cinnamon-dusted flour tortilla rolled into a stick, and two small scoops of homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream. So creamy, with big chunks of chocolate peeking out. It was an inspired creation, but seriously high-cal.
Viva La V-Day. Bouquets to those of you already plotting Valentine's Day dinner. You might want to consider what the restaurant is planning for its lovers' day fete: On Feb. 14 (6-9 p.m.), it will offer couples — for a fixed price of, ahem, $69 — salad, appetizer, dessert and an unusual entree: quail, drenched in rose petal sauce. Never having tasted rose petals, I can't predict how such a dish might turn out, but hey, it sure is in keeping with the spirit of the holiday. Thorns to those of you who've already spotted a way to economize on your Val's Day date. Oh, you chronic bottom-liners are already mentally running the numbers: "Let's see, a dozen red roses cost $100, dinner is another $100. If we go to Viva La Frida, we could dine on the roses, and thus save more than half the cost of the evening."
Whether or not you go on Valentine's Day, do visit Frida's sometime; its arty food and surroundings sure do provide a colorful evening.
Contact Food Critic Sara Kennedy at sara.kennedy@weeklyplanet.com or call 813-248-8888, ext. 116.
This article appears in Jan 24-30, 2002.