Restaurant Review: Papatzul

Papatzul
55 Grand St
New York, NY 10013
(212) 274-8225
www.papatzul.com

Mexican food is one of my favorite cuisines. The layered, rich flavors, the spices, the sauces, the fresh ingredients all combine to dazzle my taste buds like no other. However, as we all know, there are few things worse than when Mexican food goes wrong. For one, chances are that if you plan to indulge in a Mexican meal, you probably spent a few more minutes than usual on the elliptical and have braced yourself to walk out of the restaurant with a food baby in your belly. Second, you probably crave something a little more exciting than steamed vegetables or boiled dinner. You crave a thick, rich, smoky mole sauce, a tangy margarita, freshly fried, lightly salted chips, a chunky, colorful salsa, and a fresh, creamy, every so slightly spiced guacamole. When these qualities aren't reflected in your meal, this is an ideal recipe for a crestfallen diner.

This week I had the ironic good fortune of sampling Mexican food from both sides of the quality spectrum. I say ironic because had I not indulged in an atrociously disappointing meal at Veracruz on Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg, Brooklyn (review to come), this culinary dichotomy might not be so prominent in my mind and on my tongue.

Last night, through a twisted turn of events, my friends and I found ourselves in Papatzul. Ninety minutes later, we were all thankful for this fate. We started at the bar, cocktails in hand, me with a jalapeno margarita. One of my biggest beefs in terms of margaritas is the use of sour mix. It is unconscionable to me that so few bartenders know how to prepare a pure, sour mix-free margarita. How difficult is it to mix tequila, fresh lime juice, and triple sec? Apparently very! So, I grow weary of the sugar laden cocktails that I am usually handed by a bartender, literally weary because I inevitably go into sugar coma shortly after drinking one. Couple this with a heavy, cheesy meal, and I'm ready for bed. So, imagine my joy when the tangy spicy goodness of Papatzul's margarita hit my lips and tongue. Oh, joy!

After a significant wait, we were finally seated. My one complaint, though minor and understandable is that we had to wait well beyond the projected 15 minutes we were given when we first put in our name. Understandable because, come on, this is New York. If you go out on a Saturday night without a reservation, you should expect to wait at least 45 minutes for a table. Build enough for two more drinks into your budget for the night.

Once comfortably seated, we indulged in some of the tastiest, most flavorful, most perfectly spiced salsa and guacamole I've had the good fortune to grace my taste buds. The chips were clearly homemade, warm, and lightly salted. To me, nothing symbolizes good quality as the ability of a food to satiate me more quickly than another. I could have eaten the whole mound of guac, but I didn't feel the need to. A few bites sent me to heaven.

Unfortunately, I wasn't too hungry, so I didn't order an entree. Instead I indulged in the Elote de Coyacan (grilled corn on the cob), which was unbelievably tasty. Anyone who knows me knows that I am somewhat of a fiend for corn on the cob. This past fall, while vacationing on Cape Cod, I made a daily run to the local farm stand. No matter what the menu for the evening's meal, I would eat my corn! Sprinkled with a bit of crema fresca and chile powder, the elote were a taste sensation. Next, I sampled the Sopes con Calabaza, Hongos y Queso (corn cakes with zucchini, mushroom, and goat cheese). These were also mmm mmm good. I also threw on a little dollop of guacamole, which spiked the tasty goodness level.

My companions were equally pleased. Wesley, my beloved, not an ardent lovver of Mexican food, ordered the Enchiladas de Pato al Mole Almendrado (duck enchiladas with mole). There are few times that I have seen Wes so pleased with a meal. In fact, he proclaimed that he would return to Papatzul any time I asked. Though a vegetarian, I deemed it an artistic responsibility to sample the dish and proclaim their mole a product of the gods. Two others at the table both indulged in the Enchiladas Verdes de Hongos y Espinacas (spinach and mushroom enchiladas), which I also sampled and declare to be perfection. The most beautiful thing about these dishes is that they all managed to be both rich and flavorful and light at the same time. None of us felt ready for a nap, none of us felt the need to engage in a purging session. On the contrary, we were all satisfied and energized to embark on the next phase of the evening. That is a success!