Pericos has been a party spot in Cancún for nearly 40 years, but drug cartel activity has suppressed tourism and understandably put a dent in business. So what’s a restaurant entrepreneur to do? Enrique Rebolledo’s answer is to reach across the border with his first U.S. venture. However, St. Petersburg is not Cancún.
For Mexican native Rebolledo, Florida’s regulations and building hurdles have to be a colossal headache. After appearing on CL’s radar at the beginning of the year, Pericos was delayed until its soft opening in the fall.
The decor is built around brightly colored chairs, hanging sombrero lamps and adornments celebrating Mexican national heritage, including Día de los Muertos skeletons and images of revolutionary heroes Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata, plus painter Frida Kahlo. Before I get ahead of myself, some context.
I dine anonymously so that my columns report the experience of an everyday patron. My prep each week includes looking at restaurant websites and getting a sense of the online buzz about signature dishes or potential pitfalls. Having a sense of the particular culinary world as I enter primes my brain for the meal. When CL’s editors added Pericos to my review list, I began my exploration.
No website. Perhaps a Facebook page? Success. And here’s a lunch menu, yet no hours. Let me call to see when they are open. No answer, just a recording with no information. I don’t want to pick a time, show up and find out the place is closed, which has happened. Well, I’ll call back tomorrow at a different time. Same unsatisfying result.
The crisp, thin tortilla chips for the table are made in-house, as are the accompanying salsas, mild verde and roja with a kick. Our meal begins with a choice of black bean or tortilla soup, or a Caesar or house salad. All four are pretty standard fare. The soups, though, come with a small plate of four sliced and diced garnishes: tortillas, cheese, avocado and dried chilies. These are a particularly nice touch, allowing diners to customize according to their personal preference. I choose to go all out with the garnishes, which increases the soup’s allure immensely.
Sadly, some of the entrées are not available. In place of pambazo, a dipped and stuffed telera roll, we try three soft tortilla tacos filled with onions, cilantro and chicken breast that’s overly dry. The texture is easily remedied through salsa or beans, but it doesn’t make up for the taste usually provided by juice.
Quesadilla Tradicional isn’t cheese melted in a tortilla as you might expect. Instead, it’s a deep-fried enchilada with an open side; sort of a crispy Mexican sandwich. It’s filled with shredded “tinga-style” beef (our choice over chicken), combining red and green tomatoes with chili and onions. Add lettuce, mayo, Cojita (a dry grating cheese similar to Parmesan), sour cream and the two house salsas, and you’re clicking on all taste buds.
Three enchiladas stuffed with cheese in a salsa verde with rice and beans are comfort foods that will fill you to the brim. And two corn tamales, packed with chicken in a mole poblano, link us to core flavors and textures of this great cuisine, yet they don’t excite.
While the dinner menu of 26 entrees reflects Pericos’ “opening stages,” it notes that over time the restaurant’s “complete menu will offer 70+ items.” But how will anyone know? St. Pete is not Cancún. It’s 2015. Go to Wix.com and create a cheap website, or put the full menu and hours prominently on Facebook. Or answer your phone; at least give callers a message with basic details. This is the Information Age. Customers want and need specifics at their fingertips.
The most memorable part of my party’s experience is the wonderful chance to mount a saddle at the bar, place one of the huge, ubiquitous sombreros on our heads, and pretend to be cowpokes. I haven’t been on a horse since my 21st birthday (more than a few years back), and though I’ve traveled across Mexico from Cancún to Vera Cruz to Ensenada, I’m firmly in the “city slicker” camp. This is Cancún-style fun.
Since excellent Mexican cuisine is already well represented, especially on Pericos’ side of the bay, success may mean developing this niche. But St. Pete is not Cancún; get out from under all those delightful sombreros and throw us a digital bone.
Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.
This article appears in Nov 26 – Dec 2, 2015.