Guajillo Mexican
Arlington
1727 N. Wilson Blvd.
Arlington, VA
703-807-0840
Open daily for lunch and dinner; Sunday for brunch.
Pining for the sensuous side of Mexican cooking? Head to Guajillo on a Friday or Saturday night. That's when cocktail de camarones, an elegant riff on ceviche, and sinful chicken mole, sure to evoke Like Water for Chocolate, are apt to make appearances.
In a world overrun with Tex-Mex, Cal-Mex, and Salvadoran-Mex, it's reassuring to find a place that deals in the real thing--and does so with some style. Guajillo may look like just another family-run shopping-plaza storefront, but Mexican expats are all abuzz about Karen Barroso, from Mexico, and her husband, Rolando Juarez, a Salvadoran, qho own and run the place. Here's a dining room that doesn't rely on hokey Mexican icons like sombreros and cacti but reads like a swank Mexico City address, with spackled cinnamon walls, cowhide slipper chairs, and white clouds on a ceiling of pale blue.
You'll find potent margaritas--spring for the Herradura Gold version, made with better grades of tequila and Triple Sec than the standard drink--or a "margatini," a shake of Patron Silver tequila and Grand Marnier. Besides a long roster of boutique tequilas and mescals such as Monte Alban, complete with agave worm, there is a zippy selection of Mexican beers, from Negra Modelo to Bohemia.
But on to another "cocktail," an oversize balloon wine glass rosy with chili-and-lime-spiked "tomato" juice and bobbing with sweet shrimp, cucumber, and diced red onion. Just the thing to share with a significant other. Other worthy beginnings run from textbook guacamole and fried plantains to a simple chicken-broth-based tortilla-and-vegetable soup from Central Mexico, and fried quesadillas fashioned from house-made tortillas, the white cheese known as queso blanco, and assorted fillings.
On weekends, look for the soulful stew of pork and hominy. And there are the chips, made from the house tortillas, to swipe in the complex fresh-and-charred-tomato salsa. Diners
used to fluffy, slightly sweet Salvadoran tamales will find the dense unsweetened packets here dull going. And the plate of melted manchego with fried poblanos is okay but nothing special.
Main courses include wonderful tacos--the fried-fish, chorizo, and pork versions are stunning--crisp greaseless chimichangas, and first-rate enchiladas. What makes it all so appealing is restraint: a drizzle of sauce, a few crumbles of cheese--no gooey masses of Monterey Jack and salsa.
Grilled meats tend toward rare, so order accordingly. And though more expensive cuts like a special of New York strip with chipotle sauce may tempt you beyond the Cheap Eats limit, poor man's plates like Mexican skirt steak smothered with onions, tomato, and jalapeño are more interesting.
It's worth calling ahead to check on the availability of the chicken mole, a steal at $12 and, last we heard, a fixture on Friday and Saturday nights. It is sensational, a velvety chocolate-, chili-, and cinnamon-scented dish that will make you forget all others. That this cornerstone of Mexican haute cuisine transcends everything else on the menu is no accident: Puebla, the hometown of the chefs, is where mole poblano was born. As might be expected from a kitchen this savvy, side orders are equal to the rest: pale, flavorful refried beans with the right chunk-to-purée ratio, fiery chipotle mashed potatoes, and steaming rice tinged pink with tomato.
Sweets are another revelation. Standard flan is quivery and lush, and much-hackneyed sopapillas, wings of fried dough crusted with cinnamon and sugar, are so ethereal they just might take flight--have them with vanilla ice cream for a sort of Mexican-style sundae. Cajeta is Guajillo's own take on the sundae--vanilla ice cream glazed with burnt-sugar syrup and studded with coconut. Just another one of those sensual reveries that makes Guajillo such a pleasure.
Guajillo, 1727 N. Wilson Blvd., Arlington; 703-807-0840. Open daily for lunch and dinner; Sunday for brunch.
— Cynthia Hacinli
July 2001