2304 South First Street
Austin, Texas 78704
512.462.2188
Here’s the thing about dating: I kind of like it. I mean, there are just so many possibilities. In fact, I often find myself enjoying a tremendously awkward failure as much as a sweet success. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same of my relationship with food: I really only like the good stuff. Sometimes, the anticipation of trying a new restaurant for the first time can bring on as much wardrobe agony and sweaty palms as a first date.
I live in a very special part of South Austin lovingly nicknamed the “Tex-Mex Mile.” Honestly, you cannot swing a Fiesta shopping bag without hitting a half dozen margarita dives or sweet panaderias. On my daily commute, I had long been admiring Little Mexico from afar. The restaurant is on the Mile and is housed in a turn of the century craftsman home painted green, with enough neon lights to cause a seizure, or at least a small twitching fit. The front deck is covered in twinkling Christmas lights and they have a massive Nativity scene on the roof, year-round. Yes, Jesus in a manger. On the roof.
My excitement was barely containable once I made the decision to follow my heart and make a move on Little Mexico. I called up a friend, carefully considered my outfit choice and began the walk down South First. Man, was I ready. I even shaved my legs.
I have always lusted after the exterior of Little Mexico and almost died when the interior proved just as lowbrow. The inside looks -and smells- like the interior of a Tijuana Waffle House run by your local, friendly kingpin. Loved it. The deck is all mismatched metal folding tables and plastic chairs.
Naturally, the first order was for chips, salsa and queso. First of all, like any good and faithful Tex-Mex follower, the thick tortilla chip is no friend of mine. They are wrong. All wrong. Sadly, the chips at Little Mexico were more like little corn surfboards than the super-thin, extra crispy variety I have come to know and love. Definitely not homemade or hand cut. This is the moment on the promising first date when you look down and realize your date is wearing Nikes instead of Toms. A flaw no doubt, but perhaps redeemable.
The salsa was just this side of runny, but definitely fresh and maddeningly spicy. Unfortunately, there was nothing to save the queso. If you have ever been to a movie theater or professional sporting event, you must be familiar with the “nachos.” Super salty discs drowning in fluorescent orange goo, bearing an uncanny resemblance to radioactive waste? Yeah, those nachos. Well, that goo is exactly what was passed off as queso. No kidding, I am almost certain someone pushed a button to dispense it into the bowl. Watery and flavorless, this only made the chip matter worse.
Feeling disheartened, we decided to simply share the chile relleno. The pepper was decent, but overcooked. I felt like I was eating about half a pound of cheese, battered and fried. There just was not enough flavor for me to remember I was eating a pepper. The sauce left so little impression, I cannot actually recall what it was. Don’t get me wrong, I can eat the hell out of cheese, but I was hoping for a dinner with more kick. The rice and beans were fine, but then who ruins rice and beans?
Sadly, this was the instant when instead of lauding Pollan’s new tome that he picked up at BookPeople, your date sings the praises of Dan Brown’s latest at Barnes& Noble. Deal breaker.
The silver lining is that Little Mexico does have a very charming deck, especially with the Holy Family hanging precariously above your head. The service was great, friendly and fast. They also offer a killer happy hour: $1.50 domestics and $2.00 imports. I could see myself going back just to hang out on a nice day and enjoy a few beers. That being said, if Little Mexico wants me to try its food again, I will not be returning those calls.
by Phyllis Anastasia Gasper
[Photos: Susan Stella Floyd]
