The arrival of a family member gave us the impetus we needed to venture south on Park to try out a restaurant that we had been chomping at the bit to try for months: El Guapito. We had seen a few good reviews of the restaurant, including this one in the Sun. However, our experience was way less than satisfactory (well, for some of us at least), and not only because of the long walk home. El Guapito is located at 110 West Mulberry, half a block south of the Pratt Library. While it may be a good spot for lunch, at around 8 on a Saturday, the streets around El Guapito are deserted. There does not seem to be too much else going on in the 100 block of West Mulberry, besides the beauty salon across the street, which was closed at the time.
Inside, the space is spacious enough and is comfortably homey. It has the same vibe as the Mekong Delta, another DIY place located a few blocks south of El Guapito that won City Paper’s Best New Restaurant award for 2009. Guapito had a CD player spinning some Mexican tunes in the second room, which I know only because there was no one to greet us as we entered the restaurant so I had to search for the hostess. Turns out the hostess is the chef is the server. Perhaps we caught Guapito on a wrong night, or maybe it is always this way. I sure hope to give it a second chance because we live in a neighborhood, and city, that is seriously lacking in Mexican restaurant options.
While one can usually forgive a lack of ambience and poor service if the food hits the mark, Guapito left much to be desired in this respect as well. The meal started off pleasantly enough with an order of homemade tortilla chips and two excellent salsas. My sister ordered a margarita, which we all agreed was totally bereft of the key ingredient: tequila. Perhaps my sister’s request for no salt had been lost in translation? My cerveza came served in a plastic cup straight out of a elementary school cafeteria. The bottle would have sufficed for this gringo. Ms. Rose E.’s sangria, on the other hand, was perfectly prepared, infused with just enough alcohol to make one tipsy without the prospect of a future headache. We ordered a chicken quesadilla as an appetizer, which was average, although a bit undercooked. For my main, I ordered a Carne Esada platillo, which came with rice and beans which I am 99% sure came from a can. The meat was OK, not particularly tasteful and a bit dry. My sister’s choice of entrée was even worse, a chicken fajita which tasted shockingly similar to the chicken in a McDonald’s salad. Rose E., on the other hand, lucked out with her order, a Carnitas tostada that was nearly as big as our entrée and cost less than half the price. And as a bonus she did not have to suffer through the rice and beans. If I do return, at least I now know what I will order.
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