Spanish Harlem: a piece of the "outside world" America!

Why would Mauro and I go to a Mexican restaurant in Spanish Harlem? There are plenty of good, fun, and exciting Mexican restaurants in “white” Manhattan, like the new La Esquina, the long-time over-priced American favorites like Dos Caminos and Rosa Americano, or even the more “authentic” Mexican restaurant on the upper west side called Frida, where the mole is fantastic, the guacamole perfect, and where drinking Mexican hot chocolate on a winter afternoon surrounded by “real” and attractive Latin-American people truly draw you into another environment other than NYC. I must admit, Frida’s interior design brings me back to sitting in a tequileria in Playa Del Carmen (one hour south of Cancun in Mexico), getting drunk off the best margaritas in the world while listening to Mariachi bands pass me by every ten minutes (Mama Mexico is also a great Mexican restaurant where a live Mariachi band plays throughout the restaurant all night. My favorite song to ask for? Besame, besame mucho, como si fuera esta noche la ultima vez, the most romantic classic ever!). So with all of these wonderful Mexican beaux restaurants why would Mauro and I go all the way to Spanish Harlem?
One might think: “because it’s cheaper!” But not a valid point. There are plenty of good, cheap Mexican joints in “white” Manhattan as well, that are much easier to get to and potentially less dangerous; for example, my all time favorite is a small burrito spot across the street from Nice Matin on the east side of Amsterdam between 79th and 80th street. I have been going there for over ten years now! They have amazing frijoles, tortilla soup, tamales, burritos, tacos, and chicken tostadas, to name a few. I must be honest that I’m not a big fan of the quesadillas. They also have the best green chile salsa that I have ever had in my life (ask for the medium spicy salsa). Another small Mexican joint which is not small in popularity, flavor, and debatably on price is Mexicana Mama on Hudson street. The food was very interesting, very good, and the design very Mexican, but there were only white girls working there when I went – strange – but don’t worry, I guarantee there were Mexicans working in the kitchen. I mean really, what kitchen in Manhattan doesn’t have a Mexican working there? (Like my father would say, “that is merely an observation, not a judgement)
Okay, I’ll stop the suspense. The reason Mauro and I went all the way up to Spanish Harlem is not only because my long-time friend Marcus Burrowes invited us to try it with him and had said that it was his favorite Mexican spot in NYC (which is good enough reason to go), but because. . . (and I’m sure Mauro feels the same). . .I miss Mexico. I miss Mexico, and I miss Belize (Belize is adjacent to Mexico’s southern border and is also west of Guatemala). Even though the Mexican restaurants previously mentioned all recreate flavors and designs of Mexico’s history and culture, they don’t have the same local vibe. They have more of the vibe you would experience in the tourist areas of the country, like Playa Del Carmen.
What is the “local vibe?” It’s most likely not something most Manhattaners are looking for when they go out to dinner, but then again I don’t associate myself or Mauro, or Marcus with “most Manhattaners.” Let me try and explain – Mauro, Marcus, and I walked down 116th St. between 2nd and 3rd avenue to where, Marcus would have to find by its large neon lights: La Hacienda. It was then that I really first noticed that both Mauro and Marcus were wearing tight white, thin legged jeans. They both have great style (Marcus is actually a designer and owns his own clothing company with his cousin Sean Reveron called RockersNYC (check out their official website at http://www.rockersnyc.com/ and an interview with them at http://www.hypebeast.com/2006/09/rockers-nyc-interview-by-paul-mittleman/ ), but I was also ecstatic when I saw the outside of La Hacienda, glowing in the dark night of the city. The restaurant was really big for a small Mexican joint. It was built of red-clay looking stones which was really fantastic. Then upon entering there was this one huge wooden table set next to an open wooden-paneled window with a beautiful dyed-blond haired Mexican woman eating alone with two huge plates of food in front of her.
“This is perfect!” I thought as old-school ranchera music blasted through the speakers. Not only was the environment very “natural” for NYC, but there were also vines and plants weaving their way throughout the whole restaurant it seemed. I even began wondering, ‘maybe there were live chickens in the back, Mauro would be so excited – maybe if I walked through the kitchen door I could enter what I called “Latin American treasure land,” like how the little girl and boy from the movie Narnia, entered another world by walking through the closet. The music, the Mexican people who had not yet been Americanized and still had the culture of their country alive in their daily lives made me remember the “outside world.”
The outside world – NYC was filled with people from this territory, and how quickly assimilation occurred – and confusion – conflicting realities – NYC was a vacuum – easy to get sucked into and hard to get out of. If only I could walk to Mexico from NYC like my friends from San Diego could do. If I could leave NYC and experience another “real world” every so often, I would love NYC more, I promise. I think that is why I love restaurants, and why I love NYC restaurants: you can find a piece of the whole entire world in NYC.
Okay, for the food – it was good, but nothing to go crazy over. The guacamole was solid (we had two orders for the table), the negro modelo was cold and absolutely perfect, and the entrees. . . . they were a bit more difficult. Marcus ordered a special plate of jalapenos, onions, and vinegar (note to reader, don’t ever order anything special if you cannot speak the same language as anyone in the restaurant! A big no,no). It took Mauro and I and even Marcus about five minutes to try and explain, even to the owner, what Marcus had gotten the last time he went to La Hacienda, and yes, wanted again (note to restaurant owners, don’t make people special orders and then don’t remember them – or just don’t make special orders in general – it will make everyone’s life easier!) So, about five minutes later, the waitress returned with a pleasant smile on her and a huge, huge bowl of jalapeños and onions – exactly what Marcus had wanted, but just a little bigger than he had expected (yet they didn’t even charge us for it).
Both Marcus and I ordered the fried fish which came with the same jalapenos and onions on top, and Mauro ordered chicken enchiladas with mole sauce (Mauro and I were sharing). The fish could have been good if it hadn’t been completely over-fried. I was so excited to see Mauro’s face when he told me “I’ll fillet the fish.” ‘That’s going to be quite a challenge I thought to myself and just stared at Mauro while he began what he hoped would have been an easy swipe of his knife down the spine of the fish – that didn’t happen though. I really liked the chicken enchiladas – but Mauro wasn’t a huge fan – I don’t think he’s a huge fan of mole sauce in general. Every dish came with rice and beans. I then turned my exciting attention from Mauro trying to fillet the fish to Marcus who was diving into his refried beans. I turned to him and stared and said, “Um, I don’t know if I want to tell you this, but you know refried beans are made with lard right?”
Marcus looked at me with an innocent glare, “yeah,” he said, “but I asked them last time I was here and they said they didn’t make them with lard.”
“Oh,” I smiled, this night was just too entertaining, “you asked them in English right?” I looked at Marcus and continued, “the same English you used to ask them for your jalapenos right?”
He looked at me blankly, unsure of what to believe anymore – but we double checked for him in Spanish and come to find out they actually make their refried beans with oil instead of lard.
But to me it all didn’t matter that much. I wasn’t going there specifically for the food but for the experience (Just to note, Marcus said that the last time he was there the fish was perfect, and I absolutely believe him). All of us left full, except Mauro, and the total cost of our bill with tip was $30/person, which included five negro modelos.
In conclusion, I had the best Mexican night experience since my visits to Belize and Mexico and if you have that adventurer side to you, I would recommend taking the trip and experiencing a different part of NYC culture that has not been designated to please an American public: and if you do order the fish, just let them know that you don’t want the fish too-fried. Here’s the gringo way to say that in Spanish (Marcus, quick, grab your pen/pencil) – no quiero el pescado bien frito (I don’t want the fist too-fried).
Note: I take no responsibility for anyone who is not street smart and acts stupid in Spanish Harlem. Just to let it be known, any place that has the label “Harlem” involved has a reputation of being potentially dangerous. Go at your own risk.

(I just wanted to let you know of one other restaurant that I absolutely love where I also feel like I have walked into the “outside world,” and is not located in any place with the word harlem attached – it’s actually located in Chelsea, our very gay friendly neighborhood. This restaurant, however, is a Venezuelan restaurant, not Mexican. It’s called Cocotera, and is located on 18th St. between 7th and 8th Ave. It is one of my favorite lunch spots. On Thursdays they specially prepare Mandocas which are a classic Venezuelan street food made from boiled plantains which are then made into a dough, shaped similar to a pretzel, and then fried and served with a dipping mild cream and a grated mild white cheese. They’re amazing. Cocotera also has awesome arepas – even arepas with shark meat. All in all it’s great food, great atmosphere, and the Venezuelan owners and workers are so nice and friendly.)