La Cabanita, Montrose

Last night we went out to dinner with our friend and promoter John Morris. "Where do you want to go" he asked? "How about the best mexican food you have ever tasted?", I replied. "Ugh." "Now, trust me John" I opined, "You've never eaten any where like La Cabanita. "

Situated on the sloping street of Verdugo Avenue in Montrose, a small community nestled in the hills above Glendale, La Cabanita offers culinary treasures rarely found in this country.  This is not the Mexican street food we are used to in this country but rather the high epicurian fare found in select restaurants in Mexico City. 

When I was young, one of my mother's prized cookbooks was the small but incredible Elena's, a forties era sourcebook for this type of elegant food.  La Cabanita champions this sort of cuisine. This restaurant has won many "best of" awards over the years and they are richly deserved.  I took my friend Robert Bijou, a person not easily wowed, who is married to a very classy Mexican woman, Irma, to La Cabanita once and even he was impressed.

Chile en nogada, poblanos stuffed with walnuts and raisins, napolitos, fantastic mole dishes, the toughest thing is deciding which incredible dish to order. Their carrot and chicken soups have won wide acclaim. La Cabanita has been a favorite haunt of my fellow antique dealers for years. In my family it is a tradition to go for breakfast after a day junking at the Rose Bowl swap meet. Once during a show in Glendale, a group of us went back three nights in a row. And were ready for more.

Typically for breakfast I get the succulent chuletas, thin pork chops baked in black bean and pasilla sauce and then topped with sour cream.  I get a cup of their incredible coffee, which might have a touch of chicory and cinnamon and which is accompanied typically by a sweet crunchy twisted pastry.  The tortillas are made to order and very atypical, double the thickness of a standard corn tortilla, chewy, absolutely fresh with a hint of lime.  Give me La Cabanita and the space and silence to read the sunday paper and I am close to heaven.

The restaurant was totally packed last night but we found the proper seam and were quickly seated.   We were brought excellent chips with two sauces, a superlative tomatillo and a nuanced habanero. John ordered a chicken mole dish, which was delicious, subtle and not overdone. Steve had pork in a salsa verde sauce with strips of poblano chile.  I was going to have the sopes compuesta with chicken mole, sweet ground beef and one other filling but went back to the old favorite chuletas.  We all traded bites.  John quaffed a Bohemian and Steve a Negro Modelo to accompany the meal which we polished off with a community flan.

I knew that the food was good when Morris, the mexican food hater, went back for a business card and a menu.  I can't wait to go back.