The Little Find In River Ridge

Tips of new places to try have always come into The Food Show from callers, but it was odd to hear about one from our producer Patty. She reported on a weekend meal at a tiny Mexican place in River Ridge called Garibaldi. Huh? That sounded like something from Florence.  It is located in a spot that was many years ago also a tip from a caller to The Food Show. That time it was a barbecue place called Hillbilly Barbecue, run by a cantankerous guy serving North Carolina BBQ-style in a tiny joint behind a longtime bar on Jefferson Highway. Listeners to The Food Show flocked to the place, and it became a hit. The Marys certainly liked it. It was barbecue, after all. Then Hillbilly moved to another location in Harahan that was much harder to find and it faded away quietly.

The little space behind the popular bar has housed a few restaurants since then, but for about three years it has been a “real” Mexican food place called Taquisas Garibaldi. In terms of curb appeal, the little joint behind the bar ranks low, but it’s housed a few good ones, so I chuckled when Patty told me about her meal there. And it made me curious to go.

For as long as I remember, I have said that ethnic cuisine is not the domain of the Bywater, as young people have come to believe, but rather the North/South main thoroughfare of Kenner known as Williams Boulevard. This is a restaurant row of Mom & Pops serving the real deal in the real way, not the hip version. No disgrace in preferring the hip version, but if “autheticity” is desired, it is to be found in Kenner.

Tom often decried the lack of gourmet Mexican food, but great Mexican chefs have also decried that Americans are so used to cheap Mexican food that the gourmet fare they serve cannot be offered at prices that wouldn't shock American diners. So the conundrum continues.

Garibaldi has no pretense. It is a tiny place decorated in kitschy Mexican culture, offering an experience like you might find on the street in Mexico. It is tiny, bright, whimsical, and full of humble trinkets and wares. It is certainly not the gourmet food Tom dreamed of, but it is “authentic.” 

Two guys do it all. One cooks and the other runs the register and serves. I have always been fascinated by the food out of this tiny mostly-visible kitchen, and the dishes I had this time were no exception. They use a big grill, where most things are cooked. They have tamales and empanadas, but I was attracted to a dish featuring a Molcajete. 

The first time I ran into a Molcajete was at a Mexican place on the dock in Cabo San Lucas. We had a huge portion of guacamole in a gigantic Molcajete, which is a volcanic rock carved into an animal with a bowl space for serving. These are fun, and can serve anything like queso or guac to an entire meal featuring cactus pads, or Nopales.

A meal in a Molcajete includes Nopales, other vegetables, and an assortment of meats. It’s been a while since I had this dish, and I wanted to try it here. Part of the charm of the dish is the dish itself, so it was disappointing to get our wires crossed when I ordered. I wanted to sit outside in the sun, but somehow it was communicated as a to-go order, so the whole purpose of the order was lost.

I also got the things that are required for me in any Mexican establishment, and perhaps the sole fascination I have for this cuisine: choriqueso and guacamole. Even though I was ashamed to get that on this fact-finding mission, I am so glad I did. Here were the chips of my dreams, and also the choriqueso. They make their own tortillas here, and the chips are so light they are actually flaky. I was mesmerized by these chips. 

The queso had lots of chorizo lumps in it, with the requisite grease sludge (this is not a complaint but a badge of honor to me) and a perky taste tempered by meat flavor that I loved. It was a tinge too loose for my taste, but otherwise above reproach. I would return just to gorge on this.

The guacamole was fresh and fine, but not exceptional. It had few ingredients besides creamy avocado, but the onion and other bits were a little large for my taste. Still, this was a good fresh guac.

The Molcajete was served in a to-go styrofoam container, and I was grateful that the food was inside a sheet of foil. There were two pieces of steak sliced thin and with the grain, but it was tender enough. Two pieces of chicken came the same way. And a grilled pork chop was at the bottom of this pile.

Fresh white onion strips were part of this, as were fresh strips of Nopales, and a grilled whole jalapeño was atop this pile. Rice and beans came along with this, and a small salad of lettuce and pico. The way it was delivered made the rice and beans a mess, but they were pretty ordinary anyway. I did like the refried beans very much, and I don't usually say that. They were black beans, which makes all the difference.

The meats were grilled nicely and had a good flavor. The pork chop was a respectable thickness and had the bone in it. There was a pleasant coating of oil on this and the spices were appealing. I liked this too.

The place was a huge part of the appeal. It is cozy inside and a feast for the eyes, an interesting cliché visit to what one imagines of humble Mexico.

Outside is really very much like what I would expect at a place in Mexico, minus the American neighborhood surroundings. Simple cafe tables for two on the pavement in front of the building.

This place is charming, and I will return for the tamales and empanadas. And of course the choriqueso, guac, and chips. And who knows, I may start exploring other places in this corridor. My interest is piqued.