Diary 9|3|2014: Casa Borrego.

[title type="h5"]Wednesday, September 3, 2014. Casa Borrago, Very Cool.[/title] They say that vacation is a good thing, because it allows one's brain to reset to zero, giving a new perspective on the world. I have no doubt this is true. But it's also certain that after a few days out of one's work routine, all one's momentum is compromised. I didn't do a bit of work during the five days we were away visiting Jude and soon-bride in Los Angeles. And now I want to keep on not doing any work. It's a good thing I don't have that choice. And that there was something interesting on the radio on my way across the lake: an interview with Bob Gaudio, the guy who wrote most of the songs for the Four Seasons. Talented fellow. He later wrote an under-appreciated album for Frank Sinatra called "Watertown." The Four Seasons were largely about four-part harmony, something I love to listen to and read about. I need to get back into some kind of chorus. Anyway, hearing a well-done talk show shoved me back into that groove. The radio show picked up more or less where it left off. There were no undone assignments I had to catch up with, and I could spend the afternoon catching up on diary writing. Another problem with vacations: each day's journal is two or three times longer than usual. Dinner at a new Mexican restaurant, Casa Borrego. It's a half-block from Café Reconcile, and so in the center of the new life unfolding on Oretha Castle Haley Boulevard. The neighborhood is famous as the once-busy Dryades Street corridor, which dwindled to almost nothing after the expansion of New Orleans into the suburbs. In addition to the strident success of Café Reconcile, the Southern Food and Beverage Museum has relocated to the area. It incorporates the Museum of the American Cocktail (a more serious institution than it sounds) and Purloo restaurant. Plenty more to come here. [caption id="attachment_43779" align="alignnone" width="480"] Casa Borrego's front dining room.[/caption] Casa Borrego is housed in a structure that feels too large to be a residence and too small to be a church, but it looks like both. Ironic and accidental art covers the scraped-paint wooden walls and fills every flat surface. It's a fascinating space, renovated from a distressed wreck. To call it colorful is a gross underestimate. [caption id="attachment_43777" align="alignright" width="270"] Casa Borrego.[/caption]Casa Borrego's owners are Hugo and Linda Montero, he a native artist from Mexico City, she an environmentalist from San Francisco. Much evidence of their previous passions is at every turn. They spent their child-rearing years in New Orleans, but kept a strong taste of Mexican food. They've been all over Mexico, exploring its many regional cuisines. Based on that, its menu makes the inevitable statement that it is "authentic Mexican street food." I never pay much attention to claims like that. No two people who say that their ways of cooking are authentic actually cook the same food, even if they live next door to one another. The best that comes out of the claim is that it frees the kitchen to cook some dishes it might not be able to get away with. I have a bottle of Modelo Negro beer, and start with chile con queso with chorizo. It comes out in a casserole big enough to feed two to four people well. It is much more chorizo then either chile or queso. The latter is a golden cheese with the texture of cheddar. It also performs that trick we see in Italian arancini, in which strings of cheese reach from the plate to the mouth. I fight with this for a moment, and with the flat, fried tortillas. These chips don't have enough rigidity to scoop up the meaty queso. One must use a fork. [caption id="attachment_43776" align="alignnone" width="480"] Choriqueso at Casa Borrego.[/caption] I am two forkfuls into this when the entree shows up. Damn. I forgot to tell them not to put two hot dishes in front of me at the same time, because then I will be faced with the dilemma of deciding which dish to eat, and which to allow to get cold. Why any restaurateur lets this happen surpasses my understanding. But I don't go two weeks without its happening somewhere. [caption id="attachment_43775" align="alignnone" width="480"] Chicken enchilada with mole poblano sauce.[/caption] Fortunately, I was about through with the queso fundido anyway, and move to the chicken enchiladas with molé poblano. To those who may be tiring of my frequent reports on this chocolate-and-chile-based Mexican sauce, I apologize. Few dishes in the world excite me as much as mole. Here is a very well-made version of it, applied in large quantity. (It looks like too much, but as you eat you know it's just enough.) The chicken is hacked into bits of about the perfect size, and folded into flour tortillas. This is precisely what I came here hoping to eat. The only dessert is flan, highly recommended by the waiter--who then has to shoulder the embarrassment of returning from the kitchen with the news that there is no flan after all. But the rest of the menu looks good, so I can catch the flan--one of my favorite desserts--when I return. [title type="h5"]Casa Borrega. Warehouse District & Center City: 1719 Oretha Castle Haley Blvd. 504-427-0654. [/title]