Por Frank Sabatini Jr.

Before the gourmet-taco craze hit, puesto was already ahead of the game by filling tortillas with things like braised lamb, filet mignon and beer-battered cod. Add to its repertoire inventive meal bowls and guacamole prepared four different ways, and you end up with an enlightening taste of Mexico City’s progressive culinary scene.

Mexican-American brothers Eric and Alan Adler launched Puesto in La Jolla a couple years ago before opening a bigger and flashier offshoot in The Headquarters at Seaport District. Set within the circa-1939 complex that once served as home base for the San Diego Police Department, they recruited acclaimed designer Thomas Schoos and spray paint muralist Chor Boogie to create an indoor-outdoor restaurant that feels part West Hollywood, part East LA

A few vestiges from the old precinct days are cleverly incorporated into the remodel, such as a rusty staircase dropping from the ceiling and a wall revealing peeled paint and corroded piping. But it is Boogie’s giant, riotous mural dominating an inside dining area that steals the show.

Puesto’s recent partnership with local rum distiller, Malahat Spirits Company, has spawned an off-menu cocktail called “rumchata.” It’s a must-try blend of creamy house-made horchata (cinnamon rice milk) and small-batch white rum that’s innocent on the palate and devilish in the bloodstream. A comprehensive selection of tequila is also in the offing along with specialty cocktails, Baja wines and lively sangrias.

Much of the menu is authored by Chef Luis Gonzalez, a native of Mexico City who exposes us to the modern tenets of his country’s cuisine.

From the guacamole list, for example, his “Puesto perfect” version is spiked with habanero peppers and tangy Parmesan Reggiano, which tasted surprisingly at home in the chunky mash. You can also order your guac mixed with pomegranate and candied walnuts or lump crab. For traditionalists, there’s “plain and simple.”

The twist in Gonzalez’s ceviche de Acapulco is chili de arbol, a garlicky and intensely smoked salsa that amplified the flavor of the lime and cilantro, yet miraculously doesn’t destroy the essence of the sea bass.

Even the Caesar salad treks into novel territory with the addition of octopus “croutons,” which equate to tender barrel-shaped cuts of the tentacles, breaded and fried.

Exaggerated plays on street tacos have given Puesto its competitive edge. Served mostly in mix-and-match trios, choices include zucchini-cactus, poblano chilies with oyster mushrooms, chicken mole with sesame and other constructs absent from Mexico’s humble food carts but flourishing within the country’s chic, urban restaurants.

The richest and most luxurious of them all is the open-face filet mignon taco featuring toasted white cheese swaddling the meat on a bed of fresh avocado and pistachio-jalapeno sauce. It’s a calorie bomb worth every bite.

The kitchen was out of braised lamb, so we jumped on a lobster taco instead. Despite a tangle of fried onions and squiggles of cilantro crema on top, the pieces of tail meat underneath were detectably sweet.

Never before had I encountered a Baja fish taco containing wild cod encased in blood orange beer batter. My companion termed it as “flat” while I remained awestruck right down to the last shred of cabbage. The fish was remarkably moist, accented with a light fruity flavor from the orange. And as far as beer batters go, I was actually able to taste the suds in this one.

Concluding our lineup was a pair of crispy shrimp tacos slathered in tamarind-chili sauce — about a tablespoon too much for my liking. Served on herbed tortillas with cilantro and lime-spiked guacamole, the shrimp screamed for recognition.

Throughout our meal, we dabbled in a bowl of roasted corn (esquite) accented gorgeously with lime, chili powder and crema. The portion was substantial, yielding enough for two people and a doggy bag.

Tres leches sponge cake soaked in sweet cream and garnished with guava jelly, plus an ice cream sandwich constructed with thin, delicate tortillas and drizzled in coconut-chocolate sauce concluded our vibrant meal.

“Not your average Mexican restaurant,” my companion said enthusiastically as we drove out of The Headquarters’ cone-infested parking lot, which costs $4 for three hours. He thought we were going to a place serving everyday tacos. But it turned out to be very much the opposite.

—Frank Sabatini Jr. es el autor de “Secret San Diego” (ECW Press), y comenzó su carrera como escritor local hace más de dos décadas como miembro del personal del antiguo San Diego Tribune. Puedes localizarlo en [email protected].