After eating anonymously, I introduce myself to a
restaurant’s owner to set up an interview. This sometimes inspires horror. Chilango’s owner Ricardo Jordan
looked particularly nonplussed, but agreed to meet.
When the hour came, Jordan
greeted me, introduced his wife, Donna, and then disappeared. Donna, personable
in the extreme, told me their story. Ricardo, a Mexico
City native (a “Chilango”),
came to the US
over 20 years ago. He and Donna met through mutual friends nine years ago. They
got together, had margaritas, and Ricardo taught her
to salsa. Then she tried his cooking. “Between all that and the food,” she
says, “It was like Like Water for Chocolate.” Donna used to
cook the Greek food she grew up on, but she’s a convert.
When I have questions about the food, Ricardo briefly comes
and answers. Then he’s gone, then back with an article about peppers, along
with a chart showing which he uses in which dishes. “It’s complicated,” he says
in his soft, accented voice. Realizing I care about the food, he takes over for
Donna, and now he’s got me in the kitchen.
We gringos tend to think of Mexican food as simple: beans
and cheese with some cumin in a tortilla. Tex-Mex might be fairly simple, but
what Ricardo Jordan is doing isn’t Tex-Mex. How do you make that mole, Ricardo? “I could tell you the
things, but you couldn’t do it,” he says. “It’s tricky, it takes a long time.”
It’s very hot, dark, complex, and wonderful, too.
Barbacoa is flank steak, slowly
braised in the oven with guajillochiles.
The meat falls apart, and the flavor is deep and rich, hot but not searing
($12.50). I liked that better than the Mexican steak ($13), strips of steak
cooked with peppers and onions; I’d ask for it spicier on another visit (the
menu encourages that).
Pork adobo uses a different pepper
combo, ancho and pasillo
($12). Donna insisted that I try pork tomatillo, with
tomatillo’s tang complemented nicely by the subtle
smokiness of chipotle peppers ($12). If I gave stars, this would get a bunch.
Dinners come with yummy Mexican rice, as well as Ricardo’s
refried pintos. You can also add pico de gallo, sour cream, or one of many salsas at no change
(fresh, chunky guacamole is $1.25 extra). Complimentary chips are fried fresh,
and the chip salsa is irresistible. I asked the difference between the two red
salsas. “Totally different,” says Ricardo, “different peppers.” Thanks. The
salsa verde is a good one if you dig tomatillos. Ricardo wouldn’t settle on exactly how many
salsas he makes.
You can get some familiar stuff, too: enchiladas,
quesadillas, burritos, tacos. They’re good. Stuffed, fried items are quite
cool. A chimichanga is a flour tortilla with cheese
and meat (almost any on the menu), fried then topped with salsa ($11). Flautas are flour tortillas rolled with chicken and
deep-fried, then topped with salsa, cojita cheese
(think Mexican feta), and lettuce ($11). Chilerellano is a highlight, a roasted poblano,
stuffed, battered, sautรฉed, and topped ($12).
Ricardo makes his own chorizo with a 70/30
pork to beef ratio. Try it in chorizo con queso, a
super rich appetizer ($5). Ricardo’s ceviche is in a
tomato sauce with cooked seafood rather than raw marinated in lime ($6.50). I
prefer it the other way, but it’s worth trying.
Lunches are basically the same food, but cheaper, and with a
choice of rice or beans ($6 to $8).
Chilango’s is very comfortable.
Jordan, who worked in construction, did the work with his family (though he
says working with your family “is stupid”). The staff is friendly if not always
totally informed, and treats kids well. Wait times tend to be long, so if you
bring kids, bring them early.
Such is life when one guy makes absolutely everything from
scratch. “Everything you bring to your mouth,” Ricardo says, “whatever meat, it
came from Ricky’s hand.” The best chefs are just absorbed by a passion for
food; this is one of those guys. “I’m cooking with love,” he says, and it
shows. Chilango’s is the most interesting Mexican
restaurant within 20 minutes of the city, well worth the drive to check it out.
Chilango’s Mexican Restaurant, 42 Nichols Street, Spencerport, 349-3030. Hours: lunch Tuesday-Friday 11:30
a.m. to 2 p.m.; dinner, Tuesday-Saturday 5 to 9 p.m., Friday and Saturday 5 to
10 p.m., Sunday 4 to 8 p.m.
Food tip
Updates: Cassava Jamaican Restaurant has closed and the Manilla Grill is looking for a new location. Duo has opened
at the former Glengarry Grill at Eaglevale. 99 Fast
Food (Vietnamese) has pho downtown on Main, next to
CJ’s Soups. Visit www.SavorIndependents.com for alternatives to
chain-restaurant dining.
— Michael Warren Thomas
Michael Warren Thomas of
www.savorlife.com.
This article appears in Feb 22-28, 2006.
