La Cochina

There is a dearth of quality, authentic, or at least semi-authentic American Mexican food in our area. Mobile and Baldwin counties are littered with Mexican restaurants that all have the same menu.

It appears each purchases a stock menu with numbers representing combinations and dinners. The chips at some of these places are usually stale, the margaritas weak and the meat is most often of questionable quality, in my opinion.

There is one I will not set foot into and others I have eaten in under duress. My children always seem to order grilled cheeses, otherwise known as cheese quesadilla and gorge on chips and cheese dip.

A few places stand out, among them Los Arcos on Old Shell Road. But a few months ago one of my children’s teachers steered me to a place on Airport Boulevard during the annual school open house.

La Cocina rests in a nook on the southern side of the street, just west of Zea. This old Kentucky Fried Chicken building now has a red, green and white painted roof. You cannot miss it. If you get confused and go to the Mexican place across the street, I am told that this place is worth going to as well, so you may not want to brave the dangers of a holiday-swelled Airport Boulevard again. But enough traffic talk. Back to the review.

I knew when we walked in the place it was going to be good. It was filled with Mexican immigrants eating out of large bowls and plates, drinking Mexican beer. The staff appears to be one family, very personable, attentive and willing to educate. There are two menus, one English and the other in Spanish, each with different offerings.

Fresh salsa and warm chips were brought to us along with our menus. The salsa is slightly hot and thick. La Cocina does not water its salsa down to stretch it out. I noticed other tables had a brown sauce. A tomatilo sauce, it is very spicy and appears to contain several types of roasted peppers and tomatilas. The typical cheese dip is found here as well. A dunk into the warm cheese scattered with droplets of the tomatilo sauce will become addictive.

On my first visit, I ordered one of their listed specialties, a chicken chimichanga ($6.79). A large flour tortilla had been delicately fried, soft and golden. Generous amounts of juicy cuts of chicken were stuffed into the tortilla. It also came with a creamy, mild guacamole, sour cream, lettuce and tomatoes, served with rice and beans. The rice is unmemorable, but the beans are good.

I also ordered one chile poblano ($2.79). A large, real poblano spanned across the plate, oozing with cheese with a pungent tomato sauce. Theirs is a real poblano, not just some tarted up green bell stuffed with grisly meat. I have ordered and will continue to order one every time I go. On my second visit I ordered the chile poblano dinner ($7.09), two of them were served with four tortillas, rice and beans.

My wife chose the tacos de carne asada ($6.99) the first time. Four tacos (she ordered the soft) contained numerous strips of steak that were drizzled with a refreshing pico de gallo and the tomatilo sauce. The kick of the tomatillo sauce was mellowed by the cold minced vegetables present in the pico. Three days later, when we ate there for our second time, she ordered one of the combinations, that was a beyond average selection due mainly to one simple, yet critical element. The secret is elementary—La Cocina is good is due to the quality of ingredients used.

The combinations are similar to those found at any other Mexican restaurant and are numbered. Each selection has the same type of ingredients as every other say, burrito, but they are of superior caliber.

On another visit, my combination (#9 – one poblano, one burrito and one taco) contained beef I would buy to cook with at home and fresh lettuce. The red sauce slathered over the burrito at least did not taste like canned—it actually had flavor.

Each time I visited, several large bowls of some soup-like concoction filled the tables of the immigrants or recently naturalized eaters. I perused the Spanish language menu, even going so far as to inquire about some of the dishes.

Last time, I arrived determined to order from this menu, and hopefully get the soup. My kind waiter quickly implored on me not to do so. Tripe soup is definitely not what inspires me to eat. But do ask about the Spanish menu, and have them explain it. The English one is stellar, with plenty of worthy specialties beyond the numbers. Those of you who live to be different (it doesn’t work by the way, we all see right through you) will of course waltz in and go straight for the unusual. The Spanish menu is not “unusual” in the meaning of exotic, but the dinners tend to be main course presentations rather than your standard combo platters.

The staff is quite patient, and our waiter took his time explaining each item. After the recant, I asked for his two best suggestions and we ordered them. I chose the chilaquiles de pollo o de carne ($7.59) large strips of chicken were generously spiced (about two-alarm) were atop chopped corn tortillas, covered with a saucy salsa verde and a dollop of cheese-sour cream mixture. The special of the night (along with Friday night Mexican beer special of $1.79) was enchiladas potosinas ($6.92, $5.99 on Fridays). Large cuts of beef were grilled steak lumbered over red corn quesadillas underneath, filled with a spongy, mild yellow cheese and accompanied with guacamole salad.

Every plate has been left empty on all of my visits. We have taken kids and not taken kids. Ample portions are the norm. The staff actually cares that you are there. I really did not want to tell anyone about the place. Just promise you will keep it to yourself.

Kinnon Phillips is Lagniappe cuisine editor. Contact him at kphillips@lagniappemobile.com.

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