Restaurant Review: WHERE IS MY MEXICAN FOOD?!?!

I have been on a Quest. For two years. This Quest has been so Epic that it has taken every last ounce of my willpower to not break down, throw myself on the ground, and start screaming "IT'S HOPELESS!!!" at the top of my lungs. Yeah, it's been that intense.

For the past two years, I have been on a Quest for (Semi) Authentic Mexican Food Somewhere in the City of Boston [Q(S)AMFSCB for short].

I wasn't asking for much. I knew from the beginning that I would not be finding any El Co here in Bean Town. But I was at least hoping for something that was ever so slightly more authentic than the white-washed tacos my family of solidly European descent can create for a tasty evening meal. In all honesty, I was merely praying to any deity that would listen that I would not be doomed to go to Taco Bell to get my fix. And that was assuming that they even had Taco Bell on the East Coast.

I did not realize it would be so hard. (My roommate would probably be shouting "That's what she said!" right now if she were reading this.)

I figured that the Q(S)AMFSCB would probably be along the lines of searching for a needle in a haystack: difficult and taxing and unnecessarily long and nigh impossible for someone like me who, even with infinite amounts of patience, still demands some sort of instant gratification. Instead, I have decided to liken this experience to getting wisdom teeth pulled without anesthetics while looking for a dark grey needle in a stack of black needles after sunset during an earthquake. In the middle of a blizzard. Without shoes.

Ok, so my tendency for hyperbole is starting to get the better of me. But Southern Californians be warned: New England is not friendly to authentic Mexican food. They just don't quite understand what goes into making a genuine burrito. And I finally figured out why.

After months of agonizing over why it was that Bostonians can't comprehend the difference between a grilled steak burrito and a carne asada burrito, I finally came to an astounding revelation (with the help of the post-doc I was working for): Flavor is a foreign concept. The tacos and burritos of Taco Bell, Chipotle, Qdoba, Boca Grande, and so on, will do to satisfy a desperate woman in need of something warm and wrapped in a tortilla. But they just aren't flavored correctly. I still haven't nailed it down, but it's something in the spices; the seasonings are all wrong. These hunks of meat and rice stuffed into tortillas are often bland and lack the full, rich flavor of Southern California taco shops. You can't just grill up some chicken, throw it on some rice, beans, and cheese, add a little salsa and call it day. You have to cook your burritos with care. You must grill with spices: oregano, red pepper, cumin... I don't exactly know what, but something that will add a little extra kick to what you are creating. Use fresh pico de gallo. Add some guacamole that is a secret recipe handed down through the generations of the family that owns the restaurant. And for Heaven's sake, would it kill you to use a corn tortilla? A taco or burrito is not a taco or burrito unless it has a Spanish sounding name and tastes like heaven.

So after an agonizing search, suffice it to say that I was ready to give up. Yes, dear reader, it was nearly too much for this Californian to take. I mean, there are only so many fake burritos that one can consume before one goes insane and starts massacring the whole town with naught but a stiletto and a whole lotta determination.

And then, as luck would have it, my saviour came in the form of an unexpected find in the midst of one of my wanderings through metropolitan Boston. While wandering through Coolidge Corner and up and down Harvard Street, my Q(S)AMFSCB finally came to a pleasant conclusion as I encountered a small restaurant by the name of Dorado.

This place was a dream come true. I was, as one might expect, quite skeptical at first when I noticed the sign outside of the establishment that read "Baja California-style fish tacos," but out of an insatiable curiosity, I decided to check this place out.

First off, the food looks like this:

And if that doesn't make your mouth water... well, then, you might be an alien. Or dead. Either way, I am impressed that you managed to get this far into my entry. Unless you are just looking at the pretty pictures.

Ahem. Anyway.

The above photo is the dorado fish taco, which is the spicy version of the ensenada taco, which, in turn, is the Baja California-style fish taco. And it does everything right. Now, of course, this may not be the perfect taco - I, in fact, have never been to Baja California, so I have never consumed a real taco from there. However, I have been to Rubio's. Many, many times. And they are famous for their authentic Baja California-style fish tacos. So I know what to look for here. And this taco has it all: two corn tortillas, shredded cabbage, fresh pico de gallo, beer-battered and fried fish of indeterminate origin, and spicy chipotle sauce to boot. My stomach is growling at the mere thought of such a scrumptious composition. There are even a couple of radish slices to top the whole thing off!

And that is just the taco. When I was there, I purchased the two-taco plate, which includes two tacos, a side of Mexican rice and black beans. And these are what really make the meal complete. The Mexican rice is flavorful and just the right color orange while the beans are neither runny nor congealing into a bean paste.

The flavor is there. The spice is there. Maybe it isn't the most authentic taco in the world, but when I took my first bite of this glorious dish, I nearly cried. And I had barely finished my plate when I was overcome with the desire to call home and share this fantastic find on Ye Olde Streete o' Harvard with the parentals. It was pure, homesickness-alleviating, mouth-watering bliss. And for less than $10 total. For dinner. In Boston.

Friends, this is exactly what I had been searching for.

Boston, thank you for not failing me forever. You may be a difficult mistress, but at least you reward your loyal followers in the end.

People of the world, go to this restaurant. Eat a fish taco. Discover nirvana for less than $10.

I am dead serious.

It was that amazing.

Elf out!