Ever have a post you know you have to make, but dread making? This is mine.
I have a bit of a stormy relationship with Xni Pec - LTH outings have been great, outings with the Bride, not so great. First time she and I went they were scrubbing the floor, under our feet, with ammonia, which detracted from our appreciation of the (very good) food. But the Bride had forgotten and they had moved to Brookfield since then, so we set out for another visit - she said she wanted Mexican after all.
What ensued was a tale of two meals - one undeniably excellent, served solicitously, and one that was comical in its atrocity. If I did not know better, I would think someone in the kitchen was angry with me.
The Bride started, as she usually does at any place Mexican, with guacamole. Livened with sweet, sour and hot notes, avocados not too smashed, this was very good.
I ordered the vaporcito, and my tamal came out looking like distressed leather - flat, slightly burnt, and dry as hell. Tasted a bit like distressed leather too. Put some of the xni pec salsa on it and choked most of it down with a XX. My fault, of course, as I should have complained, gotten it right, but I was happy, watching the freight trains roll by, drinking a bit and enjoying the summer day as it rolled into evening. I was full of happy forgiveness and looking forward to the next, excellent dish.
The Bride then moved on to some excellent camarones al ajillo in a complex chile sauce. Perfectly cooked, and the sauce highlighted the fruit of the chile, along with a bit of heat and tasty garlic.
I chose the pescado caribeno - a filet in a coconut/chile sauce. Apparently emboldened by my lack of response to the abused tamal, the stakes had been raised - what I saw was a casserole full of what appeared to be most of a can of thick, sweet, coconut milk, with a slick of chile sauce on top. A little exploration revealed a fish filet at the bottom. I dutifully set about eating this. No surprise, it was way too sweet, which I remedied with a little more salsa, then a lot more. It was not something I usually would order, and I reprimanded myself for ordering stupidly as I got through the first, chewy bite. Then I went for a second and found it difficult to cut the fish with my fork, so I took up the knife. Hacking off a piece, I put it to my mouth, glancing as I raised it and realized through the glop that I was facing a translucent and pretty much raw filet, close to room temperature, not at all white, flaky, and not what one would call
cooked.
One dish raw, one cooked to destruction - that was my limit, so I called over the nearest waitperson.
The resolution was satisfactory - everyone in the place apologized to me before we left, the fish was cooked again and what emerged the second time was delightful. A rich sauce - chiles and coconut in balance in a complex, reduced, red chile sauce - fish cooked and flaky, all very good. We were also offered free drinks, a free dessert, and given coupons for future visits. I expect we might also have been comped on some or all of the meal, having turned down all the other offers as we were full, but there was a groupon transaction that took precedence.
So that is my report, rendered mostly with sadness. What came out of the kitchen that night was as bipolar as it gets, arguably the worst things I have eaten this year, and some of the best. I understand there were two cooks working that night, and I recognized the handiwork of two very different craftsmen - one talented and the other indifferent and incompetent. I can only hope the second one is no longer there.
d
Feeling (south) loopy