I remember rather well my first visit to a Taco Bell: I was astonished that the taco shells could so closely resemble cardboard and still be considered food. Since then, I have quite determinedly avoided mainstream corporate "Mexican" cuisine, and it is with pleasure that I divulge a few of my favorite alternatives — more authentic Mexican restaurants that have sprung up along two distinct corridors of the Bay area.
One, known perhaps too harshly as "NoHo" by local restaurant cognoscenti — a spoof on SoHo, the tony restaurant row on South Howard Avenue — sits along the 22nd Street Causeway near the Tampa docks. The others are located along a commercial strip near downtown Clearwater.
What you will find at the best of these restaurants is fresh, Mexican-style cuisine, prepared as nearly as possible to the way you might find it in the rural villages and towns where it originated. My picks tend to be restaurants that are family-owned and operated, and blessed with simple, practical decor and straightforward service. They also provide a local glimpse of Mexico's extraordinary culinary breadth and creativity.
Some of them cater primarily to Spanish-speaking people from other countries now living or working here — perhaps the staff does not speak English at all. Others are obviously accustomed to serving large contingents of gringos, so much so that the waitresses ably recite menu specials in perfect English or Spanish, whichever suits the customer. Some do not take credit cards, so do bring along cash.
I hope you'll stretch a little, and try some of these unusual places.
Florence La Mexicana Restaurant — Florencia Del Valle grew up near Mexico City and has operated restaurants in Tampa for years. She has been owner and chef at the "NoHo" spot La Mexicana, just east of downtown Tampa, since 1994. It is a modest little place, with red-and-white checked tablecloths, its walls bearing the colors of the Mexican flag — red, white and green.
La Mexicana's bargain fare attracts mostly Spanish-speaking workers from the industries around the docks, but the cheery, kind waitress spoke equally flawless Spanish and English. Its menu features everything from burritos, tacos and chili rellenos to Cuban sandwiches, snacks and chips, all the way to full dinners of chicken with two kinds of mole (MO-lay) sauce — green and red — depending on the day of the week. A big cooler sits in front with Mexican beer, soft drinks and water, for those choosing the takeout special: Five tacos to go, $5.
We wanted a sit-down meal, so I ordered chicken mole poblano ($5), one-quarter dark meat chicken lounging in a pungent red sauce made with ground chili peppers, chocolate and spices. The dish was accompanied by a hearty pool of refried beans and a small mountain of rice. Because the mole is so complex and time-consuming to prepare, it's considered a special treat, a dish for fiestas or family get-togethers. It was quite delicious, but the star of the meal was the dish that came to my lunch companion called puerco en chiles rojos ($5), pork in red chili sauce.
It was a substantial pile of chewy pork, cut squares set in a thin sauce. At first bite, the meat did not seem so spicy, but as we continued feasting, the chili peppers set a slow blaze, and in a few minutes, our mouths were tingling, titillated by the taste.
El Chicanito Restaurante — It's tucked along a commercial section of Gulf-to-Bay Boulevard as it veers toward downtown Clearwater. Along the way, you'll see, oh, a half-dozen or so similar eateries, one every couple of blocks.
My dining pal and I sat at one of the big orange booths. Since her Spanish is much better than mine, and the waitress did not speak English, she ordered for us both. Her pick was pechuga de pollo ($9.99), chicken breast pressed or flattened, and served with enchiladas that are seasoned and filled with fresh cheese — so many textures and flavors working together to delight the palate. I chose bistec a la Mexicana ($7.99), chunks of marinated beef cooked with onion and pepper, and lolling in a delectable, spicy tomato sauce. Each huge, hot plate also carried a generous pile of rice and homemade beans, fried the traditional way — in pork lard. I really enjoyed mine — tender chunks of good quality meat accented with a svelte, subtle sauce.
El Chicanito's food was similar to the daily fare one might find in a small, rural Mexican village, minus, of course, some ingredients that are unavailable here (Mexico, it should be noted, counts 100 different kinds of peppers among its flora). It was most definitely simple, fresh and unpretentious food, traditionally cooked. For instance, the tortillas were definitely handmade, not bought in packages in a store.
Los Mariachis — Owned by the Guerrero family from the Mexican state of the same name, Los Mariachis been open since 1991.
Its dining room seats up to 200, and the predictably relaxed crowd represented an exotic cross-section of languages, hues and nationalities. The waitress ably switched from Spanish to English in explaining the complicated menu, listing lunch specials, five different kinds of nachos, and full dinners, complete with complex mole sauces — served all day, seven days a week.
The restaurant has a bar offering various types of Mexican and domestic beers, Sangria, several kinds of wine, and margaritas by the glass ($4.25) or pitcher (60-ounce, $17.50). On weekends, a live mariachi band heats it up for the diners.
I ordered mole poblano ($7.75), all-white chicken breast — so tender the meat cut easily with a fork — swathed in a deep, earthy sauce made from two kinds of chili peppers, chocolate and peanuts, among other ingredients. Its flavor was so rich and full that, even though I had overindulged, I didn't want to stop eating. It was truly fabulous. On the side were homemade refried beans and rice, steaming hot, with a handful of fragrant, fresh cilantro scattered atop.
There were several good desserts, including a mild, soupy rice pudding. Best was a monster dish of fried ice cream ($2.75) — cold vanilla ice cream rolled in corn flakes, swathed in crispy pastry and fried, then topped with whipped cream and chocolate.
Los Mariachis is a terrific stop on your way to or from the beach, since the fare is excellent, the prices reasonable, and the location perfect, just off the main routes to Tampa and Orlando. And if you're in Pinellas County, heading south toward St. Pete, the Guerreros also operate a second restaurant in Largo.
.
This article appears in May 15-21, 2002.