Restaurant review: El Zarape
By David Nelson
El Zarape
3201 Adams Ave.
(619) 578-2600
We have ketchup. Mexico has salsa – in many varieties, some so subtle they seduce the tongue to swoon. These are supplemented by the sensational trio of minced white onion, chopped cilantro and fresh lime juice with which diners season many dishes before taking the first taste. The onion-cilantro-lime combo probably wouldn’t do much to disguise the flavor of cafeteria meatloaf, but it elevates and clarifies the savors of well-made Mexican fare, so that often, they sparkle.
Sparkling food: how nice it would be to have it every day. This easily could be arranged for anyone willing to eat albondigas (meatball) soup at El Zarape in Normal Heights on a daily basis, but it seems likely that after a while, the “too much of a good thing” syndrome would kick in. (A question: would it be possible to reach the “too much of a good thing” frontier if the topic were See’s California brittle?)
As the opening shot of an occasional meal at this good-looking restaurant on Adams Avenue, the caldo de albondigas ($4.95) makes an unusually solid choice for a soup. It’s also an item that wants to be sprinkled with onion and cilantro and spritzed with squeezes of lime; the resulting flavors glow. Served in oblong, celadon-green casseroles rather than bowls, the caldo boasts a broth so full-bodied that it’s chewy, and the texture makes an accompanying bite of meatball exceptionally rich and filling. A basket of freshly-made corn tortillas, some of which may still be burning hot from the comal upon which they’re baked, is placed on the table with the soup, and two or even three may disappear before your spoon corrals the last drops of broth.
A satisfying sense of abundance characterizes the generosity with which El Zarape portions virtually every dish, but be careful. A meal that started with some chips and salsa (a few crumbs still remained when the waiter offered to refill the basket) should have stopped immediately after the appetizer, a substantial and really delicious presentation of queso fundido con chorizo ($5.95). Given the ravishingly satisfying tacos built from warm tortillas spread with bubbling cheese, crumbled sausage and salsa drizzles (the salsa verde kicks like a mannerly mule), plenty of food slid down the gullets of a pair of diners who eagerly entered El Zarape around 8 p.m., exclaiming “I’m starving!” But the meal didn’t conclude with the queso fundido. Albondigas soup followed, then an entrée each and a huge chunk of tres leches cake that was shared – to the last sweet, tiny bite. Minutes later, the two staggered out to the sidewalk, faced one another and simultaneously groaned, “I’m stuffed!” Not an elegant way of expressing the situation, but it was the truth.
This restaurant offers more than good food (and plenty of it). El Zarape, the younger but much bigger brother of Park Boulevard’s student-loved taco shop of the same name, makes fine use of traditional Mexican décor items and certainly would look stylishly at home south of the border. The long, long wall that separates the dining room from the bar (the two spaces are so completely separate that you may not realize there is a bar, unless you wander off in search of a restroom) is a sort of art wall, filled with niches that house crucifixes and other religiously-themed works. There are woodcarvings of saints and angels (but why not of sinners who eat gluttonously at El Zarape’s tables?), and in quite another theme, a flock of sombreros ranged above the street-side windows. The broad ceiling beam that somewhat delineates the boundaries of the dining room and the open kitchen supports nine huge copper pans, some once used for cooking, and others, probably, for stewing linens and clothing on Laundry Day.
Besides good looks, El Zarape has the services of a fellow named Mario Marquez, who calls himself the restaurant’s “tequila ambassador.”
“I come to the table and talk to you about the 100 brands of tequila served by El Zarape, all of them 100 percent agave,” he said, explaining that gold tequila (evidently not distilled solely from agave) is excluded from the shelves in the bar. Marquez recommended the house margarita as a good, sensible choice.
“You won’t do handstands tonight if you drink the house margarita,” he said, adding, “And you won’t feel too bad tomorrow.” Solid advice from a pro.
Wine or beer might seem the likelier better beverage with entrees, but the margaritas tasted just fine. The sizeable menu features such specialties as a chile relleno-cheese enchilada pairing, carne asada with nopalitos cactus and chili powder-dusted corn on the cob, beef and chicken fajitas, chicken in mole sauce and, as a novelty, spicy shrimp linguine.
After his first encounter with a big plate of carne a la tampiquena ($12.75), a guest exclaimed, “Good! That’s really good!” Having done more damage to this well-known combo of marinated steak (El Zarape uses arrachera, or skirt steak), cheese enchilada in red sauce, rice, beans and strips of grilled poblano peppers, he added, “Oh, I like those chiles, too!” Charred but still green, the poblano rajas stung the tongue in just the right way.
The other guest’s entrée satisfied a desire for shrimp with a casserole of camarones culichi ($12.95). Served in a creamy, bright green poblano chile sauce topped with plenty of melted cheese, the shrimp were too much of a good thing after the appetizer. Good rice and beans made for a substantial meal. For dessert, the pastel tres leches, or “three milks cake,” was wonderfully moist and sweet, and attractive, too, decorated with a few fresh strawberries and what appeared to be a poinsettia leaf made of tinted frosting. The diners somehow devoured the cake, and then went their separate ways to sleep it off.
David Nelson has written about dining in San Diego since 1980 for a comprehensive list of Southern California publications.