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| - A couple months ago, we were walking through Ohio City, enroute to a date with Johnny Mango, and walked past this curious place called Momocho. I'm like, "What the fuck is THIS place, and why haven't I been here yet?"
This illustrates is what a suburban dope I am. I had no idea Momocho has been around for years, had been featured on the Food Network, and serves up the most bad-ass Mexican food in the city. I needed to repair this cultural deficiency as soon as possible, and made reservations with a group of friends as soon as we were able to agree upon a date.
Walking into Momocho from bright afternoon sunlight is like being knocked unconscious...it's the darkest restaurant I've ever been it. Unless you can echolocate, you'll spend the first 15 minutes helplessly blind, waiting for your vision to restore to operating levels. Once your eyes adjust, and the surrounding objects start to assimilate themselves into 3-dimensional shapes, you become aware that you're sitting in what appears to be the cellar crypt of some demented Spanish monastery, where the monks worship Lucha Libre wrestlers instead of your more conventional deities. The lighting (if you want be so generous to call it that) is nothing but some sparse votives and a couple of weird, giant cocoon-looking pendant lights hanging near from the bar. (I was waiting for a nude Wilford Brimley to emerge.) It's totally bizarre atmosphere, but it's also kinda Euro/Latino sexy and I liked it immediately. You can show up in dirty jeans & T-shirt combo or dressed up in your best urban finery, and feel comfortable either way. (It's so fucking dark that no one can see what you're wearing, anyhow.) I had a partial for Momocho before I even tried the food.
And so, onto the food.....
The highlights of menu are thus: a) interesting guacamoles and b) taquitos with specialty meats like wild boar, beef brisket, duck, pork belly, etc. (Sadly, the roasted grasshopper taquitos advertised on their on-line menu are no longer offered, but I can't say I'm surprised. Clevelanders are just not ready for tacos filled with bugs.)
We ordered the sampling of three (3) guacamoles: the goat cheese & poblano, crab, and smoked trout and bacon. All three combinations were excellent, but the crab guacamole was the clear winner, with a surprisingly complex and gently-burning heat.
For the entrée, I ordered the wild boar taquitos. Although they contained enough salt to melt driveway ice, the accompanying sauces made the boar come alive with spicy goodness. Paired with some unconventional margaritas (cucumber margarita, anyone?) and a nice Spanish tempranillo, it was one of the most unique meals I've had in Cleveland in a very long time.
The only complaint was that service was a bit slow. Years passed between appetizer and entrée, but that just gave you time more to study the Lucha Libre photos and poetry scrawled across the walls. It's an atmosphere I didn't mind soaking in for a few hours.
Not that I'm into dudes in masks or anything.
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