New Visions of Old Mexico :: Boston's Temazcal Tequila Cantina

The scene at the recent grand opening of Temazcal Tequila Cantina was a buzz of Boston's well-dressed. The Cantina, which enjoys a waterfront locale at the Liberty Wharf, is an inviting, modern space with rustic touches: the far wall of the dining space is replete with a honeycomb of niches into which lights were tucked like votive candles. Wrought-iron chandelier-type lighting fixtures overhead vie with the coyote fence that runs along the dining area's back wall for visual charm, while the bar area, a pleasantly open space, is decidedly modern.

So are the iPads that the Cantina uses as menus, which contain photos, descriptions, and nutritional information on the appetizers, entrees, and desserts. And indeed, this high-tech touch was a good reminder that we were here to sample the cuisine, which is also contemporary and yet informed by tradition.

Chef and owner Todd Hall has marinated in the cuisine culture of Mexico and New Mexico. Hall shared with EDGE that no less a Southwestern luminaria than Georgia O'Keefe had flown him out on special occasions to have him whip up dinner at her home. Hall has also worked with the chefs of Santa Fe restaurants.

Working up An Appetite

The fruits of Hall's experience and inspiration greeted the evening's guests with generous variety--and quantity. A roasted pig graced a huge platter, its flesh proving succulent and rich.

A dazzling cornucopia of Hall's concoctions led up this crowning entree, with everything from the Ensalada de Jicama y Naranja (just what is sounds like, a refreshing jicama and orange salad flavored with cilantro and lime) to Quesadilla Huitlacoche, Codorniz Rellenas, and Tacos de Carnitas set out in abundance to please the eye--and reward the palate.

Helpful staff offered tidbits of information to help the guests understand just what they were tucking into. The Quesadilla Huitlacoche, for example, a thick corn tortilla wrapped around quotija cheese given a kick with onion, garlic, and jalapeno pepper--and extra zing with sherry--features a kind of fungus that grows on corn. The fungus--called corn smut, or, in Mexico, huitlacoche--isn't any mere mushroom, Hall told EDGE. The ancient Aztecs prized huitlachoce, and James Beard tried to introduce it to American palates as "Mexican truffle."

The name fits: the delicacy is revered by connoisseurs in Mexico, much as truffles are prized in France.

Heavenly Bird

Nothing can have prepared the average dining guest for the Codorniz Relleno, a small quail stuffed with three ounces of chorizo sausage and panela cheese and then wrapped in a strip of bacon, oven roasted, and served on a tortilla. The dish is finished with a habanera-infused sauce. As with the huitlacoche, quail was a food of the ancient Aztecs that has long been part of the lexicon of Mexican cooking. With the first bite, the reason is clear: This is one bird that looks and tastes like it dropped right out of heaven.

The Tacos de Carnitas are charmingly set out in small racks, which--aside from looking classy--keep them upright so that their contents don't spill out. With names like queso oaxaca and chorizo seco--not to mention Napa cabbage and avocado--allowing the filling to escape would be a shame. The dominant meat here is tender pork, but the chorizo garnish adds to the dish's flavor.

Pigging Out

The whole roast suckling pig--also known as the Lech�n Asado--presided over the food on offer in a manner that can only be described as regal. The skin roasted to a golden brown, the juices running from each tender slice, and the rich meat made for a feast fit for a king--or a whole table of diners.

Save Room for Afters

After such a banquet, could dessert remain a possibility? Claro que s�--the trio of dishes offered to follow the feast were just too irresistible to turn away.

In addition to a flan that resembled a cheesecake, there was also a tart, with rich vanilla custard poured into a chocolate-lined pastry shell and topped with fresh fruits and berries and, in a whimsical touch, a dollop of white chocolate shaped like a lady's fan.

But what stole the show here was a light, fresh Tres Leches. Served in a cup, this was a peach-slice-and-bonbon-topped whipped cream over lady fingers, and beneath that was a light custard. Even after sampling the plenteous fare on the groaning board Chef Hall had set out, this was a dessert that wasn't going to tax the tummy.

Libations

Lest we forget, this is a Cantina--a Tequila Cantina, no less, stocked with 300 kinds of tequila. The drink of the night was a house specialty--a margarita made with premium tequila that didn't condescend to a salty rim, and didn't need one. The already-pleasant buzz of the setting, the crowd, and the food was lifted a notch by the sheer drinkability of the smooth concoction--not too sharp or acidic at all, and a perfect compliment to the food's spiciness.

The word companionship comes from the Latin, meaning "to break bread together." A good restaurant remembers that it is a public space--a place not only to imbibe and partake, but to convene, to commune, and to enjoy good company along with good food.

Such was the case at Temazcal Tequila Cantina. Despite the crowd, the ambient noise didn't grow overwhelming, as sometimes happens in restaurants; in part, this may have been attributable to the way the cantina opened out onto a terrace, so that the room didn't feel close but rather felt like part of the waterfront environment.

I was also fortunate to encounter a fellow journalist of my acquaintance, who invited me to join him and his date. The conversation flowed as freely as people through the well-appointed, well-organized space, and the friendly staff interacted with us with unfailing courtesy and helpfulness, their presence always an addition rather than an intrusion.

Looking around the room and its mix of what looked like A listers and everyday people, my friend commented, "This is the New Boston." If so, I replied, then by all means count me in.