Excursion Along Hildebrand, Part I

After posting my last review, a couple of days ago, I decided to visit some of the other places on Hildebrand that I haven't been to, or haven't been to lately, just for comparison's sake, and to put more substance into my often-stated belief that there are more good taquerías and Mexican restaurants on that street than in all of Loopland. Today was a good start.

Today I visited 

El Manantial Mexican Restaurant

1136 West Hildebrand

(at I-10, next to the railroad tracks)

This restaurant is in one of the seedier-looking strip centers in, let's face it, a not-too-glamourous part of a no-longer-glamourous street. There was a time when Hildebrand Avenue was the City Limits, and by the time they moved farther out, Hildebrand was reaching what would be its peak of trendiness. It has long ago subsided from what was never a particularly frothy avant-garde position, but neither is it continuing to decline. If anything, it's threatening to experience a sort of low-level gentrification. 

But not here by the railroad tracks. It's a semi-industrial area, the natural home of machine shops, contractor supply houses, tattoo parlours and bars you only hear about on the blood-and-guts local news. This particular strip-center is so tatty-looking that I've never considered stopping at whatever restaurant has occupied the space on the end over the years, and there have been plenty of them. (Though I did consider buying the little shopping center when it was for sale a few years back.) El Manantial is only the latest kitchen to set up shop there. 

No city inspection yet.

I wonder if its predecessors in that space were as good. If they were (and plenty of good restaurants have failed in this town, like in any other), then I regret not having tried them. Because El Manantial is one of the best on a street filled with good ones. It is totally lacking in aesthetic attractiveness on the outside, but once in through the doors, you find a large space, brightly painted in attractive colour combinations: two-toned side walls with a terra cotta theme are juxtaposed with muted yellow (my friend Rick calls it "goldenrod"; unlike most men, he knows the names of more than eight colours) on the back walls and a section of ceiling. The décor is for the most part done with more of a thought toward, if not elegance, then cohesion. The exception to this is the area around the counter, in the back, where the tasteful decorator's work concedes to the exigencies of a mom-and-pop business, and all is hand-lettered poster boards advising of specials, rules, and so on. Oh, well.

The place was empty when we arrived, though apparently everyone was just waiting to see where we went to eat, because it filled up quickly when noon came. Many of the people who joined us in the restaurant are regulars, as evinced by the greetings they gave the staff, and each other. We, however, two gringos in a swarm of mejicanos, received service as prompt, as pleasant, and as efficient as any of that regular crowd. Our waitress spoke about as much English as I do Spanish, but between us we got by just fine. I believe she's one of the more effective waitrons* I've encountered lately. 

The food was very good overall. The corn tortillas holding my tacos (made in-house, naturalmente) were medium-thin and not at all lacking in coherence. That's a fancy way of saying they didn't fall apart even though they weren't heavy. Rick's flour tortillas (also made in-house) were good, but unremarkable. The fillings he chose (his usuals, beef fajita and picadillo) were on the high side of average, with plenty of meat, good seasoning, and, in the fajita taco, a good accompaniment of onion and pepper. 

My machacado taco was better than average, and average, as you must know, is pretty good. There was good dried beef in it, and the egg was cooked solid but not dry. The other requisite ingredients were all present, although if anything there was rather more onion than I would call perfect; but it only obtruded mildly, and in passing. It wasn't enough of a flaw to really complain about. Usually I wouldn't let that stop me, but the overall quality was so good that I'm in a forgiving mood.

The real standout was the chilaquile taco. From the first bite, I knew that I had found a truly superior chilaquile. I do not know what about it makes it so good. I thought it was that the eggs were scrambled in butter — they had a very buttery taste — but the waitress was sure it was done in oil. There was plenty of sharp cheddar cheese, not that cheap and common (in both senses of the word) stuff that can't legally be called cheese; and the veggies were grilled to absolute perfection. The chilaquiles themselves — the fried bits of corn tortilla — were also cooked perfectly. They were cut in a square shape, which makes them look less than thoroughly authentic, but that's just appearances. The flavour and texture was right up there with the best.

The only other thing worth mentioning was the basket of tostadas brought to us after we had ordered. The salsa accompanying the basket of chips was good but not noteworthy (by contrast, the salsa verde that came with our tacos was excellent), but the chips were ... oh, let's just say disappointing. A little too thick, a little too greasy. But that was not enough to detract from the total experience of tacos at El Manantial.

* Thanks to Biff and the Hankmeister for that very useful coinage; Biff for thinking it up, and the Hankmeister for passing it on to me.