"How good is your mole man??"
I quipped to our fantastic waiter.
"I'm looking for momma's secret recipe with chocolate that doesn't taste like chocolate but crack and took forever to cook. I've been to Mexico but I want the real mexico man! No cabo san lucas!"
He humored the gringo and replied,
"Our sauce has been slow cooked for over three days by my aunt Rosemaria and if you don't enjoy every last drop of sauce lovingly drizzled on your chicken your dinner's on me!"
Impressed by our waiter's gusto or his willingness to conjure the image of his dear aunt Rosemaria my friend and I ordered the chicken mole along with enchiladas. Waiting for our food we munched on freshly made chips with oniony guac and a variety of salsas. We sipped irresistible margaritas teased with salt and bursting with silver tequila.
The impeccable service delivered our dishes and we dug in. The enchiladas were drizzled with creme fraiche and had hot spices yielding complex flavors and aromas. It wasn't cheesy or beany hiding cheap ingredients but rather a masterful blend of tomatoes, tortilla, filling and spices.
True to his word, the chicken mole was worth the modest cost of our dining admission. This sh** was the chicken mole bomb! Tender chunks of meat nestled beneath a warm blanket of mole sauce on a bed of delicate rice.
Undecided for dessert we doubled down on chocolate with mini muffins on trails of dulce de leche accompanied by chocolate torte heaped on top with cinnamon-infused vanilla ice cream.
(4.5 * stars)