By David Nelson

Ortega’s, A Mexican Bistro
141 University Ave.
619-692-4200; www.ortegasbistro.com

Now that the weather finally has warmed, if your kid needs a sand pail for the beach, duck into Ortega’s for lobster, rice and beans and duck out with one of the colorful enameled buckets in which the restaurant serves fresh, hot corn and flour tortillas. (Run fast, though, since co-proprietor John Haugland formerly was a detective with San Diego’s Finest.) In Mexico, these pots serve as cooking vessels, and at the popular Hillcrest restaurant they bring color and a sense of the once-rustic Baja California coastline below Rosarito, where the legendary lobster dinners originated by the Ortega family started a much-loved Southern California tradition.

Co-owner Juan Carlos Ortega (a close friend of this writer) is the youngest of the 11 children of the original restaurateurs in Puerto Nuevo, the formerly tiny fishing camp rechristened as “the lobster village” once Americans discovered the inimitable pleasure of scooting down for margaritas, beer and family-style meals of lobsters caught right there by men in oar-powered pangas. Typically split and fried, and rather more than delicious, the lobsters invariably were accompanied by Mexican rice, soupy beans, ultra-fresh hand-made tortillas, and homemade salsas of respectable strength. Made of flour rather than corn and larger than Frisbees, the tortillas were the talk of guests from Mexico, since only in Sonora do cooks roll similar tortillas. Juan Carlos, who commenced waiting tables in his early teens, made and baked tortillas for guests while simultaneously serving food and drinks and busing tables. He learned his trade inside-out, and at Ortega’s, A Mexican Bistro (an apt name for this pretty and casually sophisticated eatery), many recipes are the legacy of his childhood.

The décor and furnishings mostly were gathered in Baja by Hoagland and Ortega, at restaurant supply houses in Mercado Hidalgo, a bustling joy of a market near downtown Tijuana, and at the many artisan shops around Popotla, between Rosarito and Puerto Nuevo. If Popotla sounds familiar, it’s where sound stages were built to film “Titanic” and other movies. At Ortega’s, vivid paintings of tropical fruits bring the riches of Mexico’s markets to life, a collection of cast-iron crosses dominates a particularly cozy nook, and deep banquettes offer grateful seating after a weary day.

The restaurant’s opening arrived like salsa-flavored manna to eaters from all over Southern California (this writer among them) who gradually had given up the Puerto Nuevo habit after post-9/11 policies created dreary border waits. Subsequent troubles made Baja fans even less willing to cross al otro lado, although these problems seem to have eased of late. From day one Ortega’s has served what they crave, commencing with a variety of margaritas shaken and stirred according to tartly tangy house recipes.

Of the many ways to start, the very first introduces the cucina Mexicana motif the best. Ortega’s Table Side Guacamole ($7.95) is a far cry from the pale green mush found at many places. It’s also something of a show, which commences when the server wrestles a heavy molcajete (a mortar carved from volcanic stone) to the table, and dumps in a couple of freshly peeled and halved avocados. After these have been muscled into an appealingly coarse puree, a marvelous mélange of flavors jump in one by one: fresh garlic puree, lime juice, chopped cilantro, and enough salt that you taste it. Scoop some up with one of the house-made tortilla chips (baked, not fried—the partners aren’t prone to frying) and drizzle on the equally homemade salsa. The large serving feeds two or more, but disappears quickly nonetheless.

Ceviche, popular in much of Latin America (Peruvians virtually make a cult of it) is another fine appetizer, and arrives in versions made both with Pacific snapper and shrimp ($8.95). Flavored sharply with a lime marinade, olives and the characteristic Mexican flavors of cilantro and jalapeños, both styles are presented in trios of crisp tortilla shells.

Apart from eggs and rice, tortillas must be one of the most versatile foods in the international repertoire, and at Ortega’s they add a crisp accent to the Puerto Nuevo tortilla soup ($4.95), a deeply flavored blend of chicken stock, guallijo chiles and roasted tomatoes. For a salad that doubles as a meal, the locally unique Sandia shrimp ($14.95) piles greens in sesame vinaigrette with grilled shrimp, chunks of juicy, ruby-red watermelon, avocado and cheeses. It’s a light but reasonably filling alternative to Ortega’s robust entrees.

Lobster stars, obviously; a whole one costs at $28.95, but it can be ordered by the half to pair with grilled shrimp in epazote salsa ($24.95), or with grilled steak in a sauce of porcini mushrooms and the tasty corn fungus called huitlacoche ($25.95). When the table craves lobster, they arrive gilded and finger-burning hot on a platter to pass around, along with beans and rice estillo Ortega, and a bucket of fragrant, chewy tortillas straight from the comal. Yank the lobster from its shell, chop off a bite, squeeze on lime juice, dip it in melted margarine (as in Puerto Nuevo, where they never serve butter) and go to town. Novices will have a newfound pleasure to repeat on future occasions; old-timers will savor reawakened memories.

Ortega’s offers much more, including ultra-juicy chicken mole ($13.95), crisp pork carnitas in superb green salsa ($13.95), complicated crab enchiladas ($16.95) and another specialty called shrimp Papagayo ($21.95), which flash-fries a trio of huge, crab-stuffed and bacon-wrapped shrimp and tops them with a chipotle cream sauce. Tacos are served in threesomes and include fine fillings like mahi mahi with lots of garnishes ($15.95). The homemade coconut flan ($6.95) perfectly follows all this richness.