FROM THE LA WEEKLY
Thursday, 13 November 2003
Buena
Cantina
Written
by Michelle Huneven
Okay,
right off the bat: Malo is not malo. It’s a decent, new,
stylish Mexican restaurant that inhabits the former
Cobalt Cantina in Silver Lake. Back during the ’80s
restaurant boom, the building was originally Larry
Nicola’s Martini Lounge; 20 years of neighborhood trends
— stylistic, demographic, economic, culinary — could be
traced in this large, handsome building, which is still
neatly bifurcated into half long dining hall, half roomy
bar. The place has now been redone by Steve Arroyo, of
Cobras and Matadors and Hillmont fame. It’s low-key and
whimsical, with a tastefully allusive pomo flair — just
enough red flocked wallpaper, old-fashioned cast-iron
candelabra and black tile to conjure a cinematic idea of
a Tijuana bordello, but no hint of the reality’s squalor
or venereal pall. Overhead, exposed ductwork — that
vestigial ubiquitous design flourish of the ’80s —
recedes with a thick coat of chocolate-brown paint.
Oddities that could have been sprung from neighborhood
junk stores — a pink hibiscus painting, two taxidermied
mountain-goat heads — add sly humor. Smokers and other
outdoor types will find a big patio overlooking the
parking lot, where the valet charges a friendly $1.25 to
keep your SUV or Subaru off the street.
The
first flush of customers, on some nights, makes Malo
seem like the new hip family coffee shop, what with
babies and kids happily eating chips and tacos. As night
deepens and bedtimes loom, the nostalgic ’80s techno
rock gets a little louder, and in come child-free
adults, dates, couples, gatherings of friends. Which is
a good thing, because the menu is a taut, well-devised
little list of small, shareable items by executive chef
Robert Luna — although one night, Arroyo’s mother,
Julie, was cooking in the kitchen. Whoever’s been back
there, the food we eat has the hearty heft and flavor of
good, home-cooked Mexican food. And in keeping with
today’s small-dishes, share-everything, anti-starch,
Atkins-friendly ethos, entrées come unaccompanied;
beans, rice, guacamole and sautéed squash are offered as
side dishes.
Filling
up on chips and salsa is optional here — you have to
order (and pay for) them. But the chips are fried to
order — chewy, hot, irresistible. I recommend them with
the burnt-habañero and crème fraîche salsa and an ample
order of flagrantly fresh guacamole. Another great way
to start a meal is with the juicy, citrus-soaked
ceviches, which can be ordered in two sizes. The plain
fish is light and refreshing; the mixta, with shrimp and
bits of octopus, more texturally varied.
Soups
tend to be meals unto themselves. The pozole is thick
and gritty with ground chile and masa and full of hominy
and chunks of chicken. Albondigas (meatball) soup is
thinner, beefy, authentically salty and satisfying. I’d
also make a whole dinner from the
iceberg-and-grilled-steak salad; the long-marinated meat
comes well-charred and sputtering on the lettuce, which
is flecked with grated cheese and olive slices — it’s a
tortilla-less, Zone-diet tostada.
Tacos
“dorados” have a fried shell — that same delectable
chewiness of the chips. The lobster tacos aren’t
luscious or interesting enough to justify the price,
whereas the ground-beef, potato and pickle tacos pack a
surprising wallop thanks to the crisp, sour dill slices.
Lavishly sauced cheese enchiladas, sprinkled with
scallions and olives, provide big, sexy mouthfuls of
soft, plumped tortilla and globby melted cheese. Almost
as good and relatively starchless are the zucchini
rellenos: cheese swaddled and stuffed; fried and sauced
squash.
The
grilled carne asada echoes the steak salad’s pleasures,
only the larger portion of meat comes with cool sliced
cucumbers. Pork, too, is a good bet here. The chile
verde is strips of pork shoulder stewed in a mild,
slightly and pleasantly sour sauce of green chiles and
tomatillo. The pork chops are thin, big sheets of
sizzling meat, all nice and mineraly near the bones;
though the menu promises tomatillo salsa, ours comes
sauced with a light, fresh, tasty but not too spicy
chile-red sauce.
Only the
$11 shrimp dishes, however tasty, seem skimpy and
therefore overpriced: Six not-huge shrimp are cooked in
either a creamy, mild habañero-based diablo sauce or in
an excellent, garlicky mojo de ajo, and are served in
their own small steel skillets accompanied only by
tortillas. Sides, however, are big enough to share. Both
the mashed refried beans and whole, plump “de la jola”
pintos are excellent in their own way. And sautéed
squash, always worth ordering, is on some nights the
best thing we eat — juicy, a little crunchy, topped with
cheese.
Desserts
seem to be evolving. A big, too-fattening, too-sweet
pineapple-ice-cream sundae in a fried shell appears to
have vanished, replaced by various granitas and a
buttery, raisin-rich bread pudding.
The
service is friendly but occasionally stretched — the
neighborhood and restaurant are still finding out about
each other. But Malo, with easy parking and affordable,
satisfying food, is well on its way to becoming a local
standby. Not malo, not malo at all.
Malo,
4326 Sunset Blvd., Silver Lake, (323) 664-1011. Dinner
Mon.–Thurs., 6 p.m.–midnight; Fri.–Sat., 6 p.m.–2 a.m.;
Sun., 6 p.m.–10 p.m. Full bar. Valet parking. AE, MC, V.
Entrées, à la carte, $7–$14.
