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Restaurant week: My new Mexican restaurant

 As I mentioned the other day, my Mexican restaurant closed down. Luckily, they opened up in a new space a couple of months later. Great new look, new name ("Lopez Grill"), they've got a bar, staff is expanded, and the place is always packed. Business seems to be going great. Now, this isn't just a rehash of my post about the 'Dolo. While the menu is largely the same, there have been a few changes, plus I'm going to share a few things I've learned eating there.
On my first visit to the new location (which was opening day, right when the doors opened; yes, I was standing in line outside with the other faithful), Señor Lopez brought me a bowl of their new salsa. He called it "guacamole salsa," but it's a jalapeño-based sauce. It's got an almost creamy texture, but is dairy-free (I asked for my vegan friend). Being a jalapeño salsa, it's got some heat, but not nearly as overbearing as some capsaicin-phobes may fear. It is perfectly balanced.
If you couldn't tell, I've spent a lot of time thinking about this sauce. I put it on chips, on tortillas, on rice, on salad, on fucking everything; however, they've got plenty of others. The chile con carne (front right) is my new usual appetizer order; the normal salsa (middle right) is okay, nothing too special; the embrujado sauce (middle, second from right) is an explosively flavorful habanero-based sauce that is typically served on shrimp or fish on one of their entrees, but I get it served separately for chips because it's so goddamn amazing; the "spicy salsa" (middle, second from left) is a staple, as it's just a solid, spicy salsa; the tomatillo sauce (rear, in the pitcher) is the same as what they had at the 'Dolo. Now, you may be wondering about that cup on the far left. Well, you see, that's a perk of being a regular at a restaurant. One of the servers up there makes that for me; it's essentially just their normal salsa, except he adds in a few extra hot peppers for me, probably because he's slowly trying to kill me. It won't work, but it will keep me coming back.
I've prided myself on my sauces for a while. I have a knack for it, and, to me, the right sauce can elevate a C- dish to an A. As such, when I have a place that has such a preponderance of delicious sauces, you know I'm going to be analyzing all of them as much as I can and trying to figure out everything that I can learn from them. The most important lesson I've learned from all of these may seem rather simple, but it does represent a strong shift of my mindset regarding sauces: don't be afraid to experiment with different textures of the same sauce. When I'm working out a new sauce now, I'll process it different ways, usually ending up with 4 or 5 different versions of the same sauce until I can pick the one that works best. Sometimes it needs to be coarser, sometimes smoother, sometimes more like a paste, while others more watery with chunks floating around in them. Every sauce has its perfect form; I just have to find it.
While the chile con carne is the appetizer I tend to order, I often end up receiving an extra app. I never ask for it, but I'm always very appreciative when they grace me with it. Super simple: peppers seasoned with their fajita seasoning, pan fried, and doused with lime juice. Usually, they just bring out a few jalapeños, but, on the rare occasion, there will be a serrano thrown in, too. Those are the best days. I usually just cut off small pieces and eat them on chips, sometimes throwing one of my salsas on them. I don't want to pretend that I'm special; I'll just flat-out admit it. They fucking know me, and they're doing their level best to make me die from my love of food. And margaritas. And food.
When I started getting more serious about my cooking a little while back (shortly before I started occasionally blogging about food), I thought the hallmark of a good dish was a fucking ton of ingredients harmonizing as best they can. When I made something that tasted pretty good, my first thought would always be "what can I add to this to make it better?" That is sometimes the right approach, but these peppers have really driven home the lesson that, at other times, I should ask "what can I take away to make this better?" Balancing the addition and subtraction is still a lesson that I'm trying to learn, but I'm getting better at that.
Speaking of adding ingredients, my favorite entree of late has been the choripollo. It's a pretty simple dish: a chicken breast pounded out pretty flat and fried in a skillet, topped with chorizo and queso. While not mentioned on the menu, you can also request grilled pineapple be added. The extra sweetness and acidity of the pineapple is the perfect complement to all that fucking meat. Cut the chicken up, cut the pinapple, then throw some chicken, chorizo, pineapple, rice, and beans into a tortilla, top it with a little sauce if you want (not necessary, but maybe you want a little extra kick) and wham bam goddamn, you just made the best fucking taco you've had in ages.
In closing, FUCK YEAH TEQUILA

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