Appreciating What I Don’t Really Like: Amelia’s Mexican Grill
Amelia’s Mexican Grill offers minor miracles of food science: south of the border chow that tastes almost like nothing. Watching The Wife eat her mole the other night, her eyes drift off as though trying to pick out the notes of a melody she can barely hear. The food is fresh but seems to lack just about everything I like about Mexican cuisine: in- your-face flavors, deft balancing of powerful spices, and chili heat that flashes across the tongue and then swiftly recedes, like the feeling of opening the oven door and then closing it very quickly.
Fresh is obviously of major importance with any food, and we’re impressed with the tilapia Mazatlan, which is one of the most flavorful renditions of this mild whitefish we’ve ever had.
I’m awe-struck, however, by the transcendently sensation-free salsas. I’m bummed by the Disney-version of mole negro – tasting as though squeezed from a bottle of Bosco. I take a scoop of beans but can barely believe it: there’s weight on my tongue, I feel it, I know there’s something there and yet…there’s just about no flavor, there’s barely even a hint of grease, there’s no there there.
Nonetheless, this place is packed on a weeknight, with happy young people enjoying their food, which seems, nine times out of ten, to be fajitas (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
So I decided to appreciate this place for what it is: Mexican food roughly translated into Gringo, a feasible dining option suitable for those occasions when I’m escorting my virgin auntie or taking the Girl Scouts on a field trip, but not any place I’d recommend to anyone reading this post…unless you pick your Mex joints based on their margaritas, which I’m told are quite good.
Amelia's Mexican Grill
1235 W Grand
312-421-2000
"Don't you ever underestimate the power of a female." Bootsy Collins