Alvin Starkman asked:


Alvin Starkman  M.A., LL.B.

Middle class residents of major American and Canadian cities tend to have their favorite all-day Sunday brunch haunts…relaxed, clean, diner-style restaurants dishing up home cooking in a comfortable familiar environment.  Six days a week from 1 to 6 pm Los Almendros serves such a function for local Oaxacans.   Tucked away on a cobblestone privada close to Blvd. Manuel Ruiz in Colonia Reforma, a few blocks northeast of the baseball stadium, Lionel Leyva with wife Soledad and family have been greeting friends and new devotees since 1974.  You can’t help but feel at home in this Cheers-esque setting as you watch Lionel greet his own set of Frazier Cranes .

 

Upon entering the quadrangle-shaped comedor you’re struck by its warmth and amiability, without a trace of pretension.  Wooden tables with traditional colorful woven cloths are covered with thick plastic.  Walls are adorned with framed photos of the owners with family and patrons of celebrity…no politicians, but rather actors, singers and songwriters.  Two mounted deer busts serve as testimony that the Leyvas do things their way, and the throngs of faithful as evidence of approval.

 

The menu is limited to perhaps 15 or 20 authentic Oaxacan plates, some of which are appetizers.  You can choose daily specials not often found in other local eateries.  All is á la carte, so begin with one or two of the modestly priced botanas, perhaps memelas or an appetizer sized grilled meat dish, each of which is accompanied by salsa and guacamole.  The house mezcal is noteworthy and definitely worth sampling if nothing else.  For this visit Lionel had a tobalá and a surprisingly smooth gusano.

 

Although we arrived relatively early for this comida, by the time we were ready to order entrées, surprisingly the Sunday staple of Barbacoa de Borrego (bbq goat) had been sold out to patrons who knew better than we did to order ahead or for take-out.  All was not lost, however, since my wife’s main dish of tender pork ribs was prepared in the same style as one of the traditional barbeque recipes, baked in a tangy sauce and enveloped in foil.  Try the black beans with aromatic flavor of hierba de conejo as a side dish to any of the grilled or baked meats.  I began with a generous, piping hot serving of absolutely spectacular caldo de espinazo with an assortment of carrots, beans, potatoes and requisite pork, flavored with chili pasillo and accompanied by a dish of sliced lime, chopped onion and serrano chili for added acidity, spice and texture.  That, after appetizers and some of the better tortillas I’ve had in a while should have been enough, but the tongue in its traditional mole called out to me.  With whole black and green olives, and a tomato based sauce flavored with onion, garlic, raisin and almond, this bowl of lean, succulent sliced meat ranked with the best.  To complete the meal, if you haven’t had cajeta, the goat’s milk caramelized sweet, try it here in a light gelatin, alongside a cup of café de olla.  

 

Just as the regulars returned to that immortalized Boston bistro every week, you too will be drawn back to Los Almendros time and again, if not on a subsequent visit during this trip to Oaxaca, then upon your return… and greeted just as warmly as the old gang. 

 

Notes:   Comida only, 1 – 6 pm

             Closed Thursdays

             Beer, spirits and liqueurs

             Full meal incl beverage  70 – 90 pesos

 

Comedor Familiar Los Almendros

3ra Privada de Almendros #109,

Col. Reforma, Oaxaca

 tel: 515-2863|

Alvin Starkman asked:

Alvin Starkman, M.A., LL.B.

Sit down in most small restaurants in Oaxaca, order the comida corrida (full meal, daily special) and as fast as the Flying Burrito Brothers your server arrives with a bowl of tepid soup with miniscule floating grease bubbles, a healthy portion of fried-in-oil-then-boiled white rice flecked with cubed carrot, a small piece of overcooked meat or poultry swimming in a scrumptiously  tangy mole, a glass of fruity water-of-the-day (agua del día), and a two-inch slab of flan to finish … on the other hand there’s La Olla.

At popular downtown bistro-style restaurant La Olla, whether patrons indeed order the daily special, or select from the menu, co-owner-chef Pilar Cabrera offers the polar opposite — a healthy yet flavorful and traditionally herbed  alternative.  She and husband Luis for years have had a faithful following of tourists and residents alike.  This welcoming oasis has managed to thrive without my business, I suppose because while living in Oaxaca I’ve learned to live with lard, pine for Pan Bimbo and bolillos (respectively, the Mexican equivalent to starch-white Wonderbread, and crusty Portuguese-style buns), and search out everything else sugary, processed and refined.  The sixties’ all-things-good-for-you mentality had been baked out of mind forever, or so I had thought.

La Olla is a thirty-seat eatery with simple wooden tables and chairs and an adobe-brick and hand-painted tile hearth as focal point, on the main floor.  A larger dining room with bar is upstairs.  The restaurant is adorned with art by Oaxacan artists who exhibit on a rotating basis.

On this visit, my wife and our daughter Sarah chose from la carta, while I, daring the kitchen to even try to reduce my cholesterol level, opted for the 70 peso complete comida.  Almost immediately upon being seated, a small loaf of fresh, hand-sliced whole grain bread, alongside tortilla chips, arrived in a basket, accompanied by butter, salsa and marinated vegetables.    Predictably, Arlene gravitated towards the un-husked while I munched on the fried masa (corn).

I hadn’t drank anything green since listening to Deep Purple, Moby Grape and the early years of Pink Floyd, so when tall soda-fountain glasses of what appeared to be murky algae arrived, I was aghast — pineapple celery juice. I had no choice.  I wasn’t even asked if I would prefer Red Bull, or anything else with first ingredient dextrose, fructose or caffeine. It was well-chilled, with just the right combination of fruit and vegetable so as to provide a refreshing naturally sweet nectar, neither ingredient masking the flavor of the other.

The psychedelia continued.  Who would ever think of combining peanuts, jícama (yam bean), orange pieces and boiled beet in its juices, and then having the nerve to call it a salad?  I was in a purple haze.  Definitely not the limp lettuce to which I’d become accustomed, drenched in a sea of joyful oil.  Crunch and munch, followed by a sunburst of citrus, then soft legume, with seemingly more flavors, textures, colors and tones than the totality of each individual component.

Thankfully my soup held no surprises, although lima beans are not normally regular restaurant fare in Oaxaca, or elsewhere in this hemisphere.  They were complemented by nopal (paddle cactus), onion, tomato with seed, and cheese, chile providing the requisite bite.  Once again, attention had been paid to ensuring different degrees of consistency.

The chicken fajitas, on the other hand, were not as expected.  But by this time I had reverted to my former self of decades long past, and willingly welcomed a main dish lacking excess grease.  The strips of chicken ****** were tender. The vegetables had been prepared separately so as to maintain their individual, appropriate degrees of doneness.  The liquid was more in the nature of light stew juices than canola á la wok.  The seasoning was Italian, yet with the pleasing essence of fresh cilantro predominating.

Sarah’s organic salad mirrored mine in terms of flavor and texture, but was sliced baked apple, watermelon chunks, flax seed and goat cheese.  Her sopa azteca was inimitably served.  Most Oaxacan restaurants serve all ingredients already combined, or the potage and some ingredients arriving already mixed together with those remaining on the side.  At La Olla the tortilla slivers, cubed queso (cheese), avocado and dried chile pasillo strips are presented in a bowl, over which is then poured the tomato-based broth.  Unfortunately the rich and distinctive flavor of the chile is not readily apparent due to the way the soup is served, so it’s best to either stir and wait, or add some salsa and fresh lime juice to achieve maximum zestiness … unless you have a cowardly palate.

Arlene ordered the guachinango (snapper), deviating from her general rule of avoiding fish and seafood while in Mexico’s interior.  This new menu item is a keeper.  Two good-size portions of properly pouched pisces, each wrapped in aromatic yierba santa leaf, were offered on a plate ringed with salsa guajillo.  Once again there was a healthy bit of heat, and different textures provided by plaintain, nopal and jícama.

Our only regret was not having had an opportunity to sample some of the other natural fruit and vegetable combination juices and one of the hale and hearty sandwiches, for which La Olla is known.  Perhaps next time … with alfalfa sprouts on the side, por favor.

La Olla

Calle Reforma No. 402

Centro Histórico, Oaxaca

Hours:  Mon – Sat, 8 am – 10 pm

Live music Fri and Sat night, 8 – 10

T:  (951) 516-6668

W: www.laolla.com.mx ; www.mexonline.com/sabores.htm

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