By Richard Foss, Cuisine and Restaurant Reviewer
Cinco de Mayo is coming up and I was thinking of celebrating the anniversary the way people do in Mexico — by ignoring it entirely. Cinco de Mayo is a much bigger deal here than there. The date commemorates a battle Mexico won in a war that it lost, and though a great deal of heroism was shown, it really didn’t change anything.
The battle became a symbol of resistance to foreign domination in the Chicano movement of the 1960s — also linking the histories of Mexico and America — but it remained little noticed by most outside the Mexican-American community. As late as 1988, most Americans had never heard of it. But a brilliant marketing campaign by the beer companies changed that, using the same strategy that transformed St. Patrick’s Day, a minor religious holiday in Ireland, into a celebration of the country’s expatriate community.
Just about every bar and restaurant tries to get in on the action, but where is a hungry historian to go to celebrate Cinco de Mayo in appropriate style? I decided that since the battle back in 1862 was fought in the Mexican state of Puebla, I should dine on the culinary specialties of that state. Unfortunately, there isn’t a Puebla-style restaurant anywhere in the Harbor Area, but one item from that cuisine is widely available: mole poblano.
Partisans of the states of Oaxaca and Puebla argue about the origin of this sauce, which is made from ground chiles and spices and finished with chocolate, but scholarly consensus is with Puebla. (There are quaint legends about the sauce being invented by nuns or monks, either deliberately or accidentally, but these may be discounted because storytellers are every bit as creative in these matters as beer companies.) But what can be stated with certainty is that mole poblano was the first item from that cuisine to become so popular that it is served in mainstream Mexican restaurants everywhere.
For instance, a friend and I went to Tacos Jalisco on Gaffey Street in San Pedro to try their mole poblano, despite the fact that the state of Jalisco is hundreds of miles and a couple of mountain ranges away from Puebla. Like most local Mexican restaurants, they serve items from far beyond their native region. I was there for the mole so knew what I was having, and my companion ordered the camarones al mojo de ajo because he likes anything involving shrimp and garlic. Not until it arrived did I realize it was the flip side of my dish in just about every way. Mole is a product of many indigenous ingredients and involves a long, slow cook, while mojo de ajo is a quick sauté item native to the Canary Islands that was imported into Mexican cuisine unchanged.
His shrimp in a mildly spicy garlic sauce came with beans, rice, salad and a dollop of unexpectedly spicy guacamole. While I prefer my guac cool rather than peppery, it was pretty good. The chicken in mole poblano sauce was a much larger portion: two legs and a thigh drenched in rich sauce accompanied by rice and beans. The meat was falling-apart tender and had little or no spice — it was a canvas for that velvety, dark, rich sauce.
How to describe it? The best I can think of was an offhand comment by a friend of mine from India, who remarked how similar it is to some South Indian curries. I understood immediately what he meant — though they share almost no common ingredients, both are thick sauces that involve a deliberate decision to grind together many spices so that no single flavor dominates. In the case of mole poblano, the chocolate that is added late in the process is a distinctive element, but it’s chocolate in a way you don’t usually taste it. There is little or no sweetness; instead, it rounds the rough edges from the heat of the chilies and strong spices without muting them completely. Although this recipe is from the Spanish period, it has a resemblance to the bitter, spicy chocolate drink that was enjoyed as a hot beverage by the Aztecs and Mayans.
That sauce goes very well with a medium-dark beer, which is served here, or with a homemade jamaica hibiscus drink or horchata, which they don’t. The jamaica here is the sugary commercial fountain drink version and is best avoided. The management might consider changing that, because the natural flavors of hibiscus are far better with food and better for you, too.
Tacos Jalisco isn’t fancy and neither are the prices — a big lunch for two with soft drinks ran $23. Whether you’re going to celebrate the culture of Puebla, or if you just want to have a good traditional meal and don’t really care where it was invented, it’s worth a stop.
Tacos Jalisco is at 1202 S. Gaffey St. in San Pedro. It is open daily, from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. There is street parking only. Its menu includes some vegetarian items. Wheelchair access is available. There is no online menu.
Details: (310) 832-0453