A stroll through the plaza 🍽
Zocalo’s tacos are top-notch, but don’t miss the mole and Mexican cocktail riffs
At a media preview event in mid-December, just before Zocalo opened, I tasted enough to know that the new taco joint was going to be bully. My sense was if they can maintain consistency, they’ll have no trouble keeping the large dining area packed out in perpetuity. So I felt vindicated on an early March visit to find everything still in order, which is to say roundly outstanding despite a few flaws which makes the place human enough to be real.
Let’s quickly recap what I wrote on Dec. 18: Zocalo means “plaza” or “community gathering place.” Sergio and Lindsey De Los Santos opened the spot as as an extension of their businesses in Geneva, Illinois, where they recently moved from. (They’re the parents of local bartender Christian De Los Santos, who designed the cocktail list and is presently helping at Zocalo.) Sergio’s Cantina dates back to 2007 in the Chicago area and connected concept 1910 lends about one-third of its menu to Zocalo. But Sergio has created new plates for Zocalo, partly inspired by his upbringing in Mexico City, where his mother still lives; some recipes are hers. The menu was described to me as “a good marriage between fusion tacos and authentic Mexican City street food — chef inspired.”
Lindsey designed the place, inspired by the town of Tulum on the Yucatán Peninsula. There’s thatched overhead fixtures, fiber art, Mexican-print throw pillows on booth seats, colorfully painted tables, and completing the somewhat beach-y vibe: swing seats in the front window for diners wanting a little movement with their meal. Initially, service was conceived as counter-style, with orders taken at a vintage VW bus parked in the restaurant’s rear, with a giant, lit TACOS sign atop it. Early rushes proved that model wasn’t ideal, with lines spanning outside and partly down the block, so the family quickly adapted to provide table service.
While that’s smoothed out, two of the aforementioned flaws do relate to the space itself. Firstly, it’s absolutely loud AF inside with sound bouncing off the concrete floors and us practically having to yell at one another to be heard; I’d recommend sound-dampening elements. Second, the kitchen hoods aren’t quite keeping up with the demand, as there’s a mild smokiness to the air, like you can tell some fish is being fried in the back. All my clothes smell like the place to the degree I hang my sweater outside overnight to air it out and toss everything else right in the wash. It reminds me of coming home in college from working shifts at Il Vicino and all my clothes being so wood-oven-odor saturated that my goofy roommates would smell them and salivate and exclaim “ummm… pizza” in a Homer Simpson voice.
Anyhoo, while on the flaws let me address the only other aspect that tripped my alarm, which was a botched bake on the house flan we got for dessert. While the flavor, with a caramel topping, was spot-on delightful, with a lovely lime zest infused in the whipped cream garnish, the texture was less than custard-ideal, venturing toward the scrambled egg consistency inside, typically meaning an improper cook time or cooling method. It happens, but when you’re batting as strong as Zocalo does in virtually every other arena, it’s an easily preventable misstep that suspends the magic we’re all chasing when we dine out. Picture a near-perfect song with a cacophonous note at the end. “Damn they were doing SO good,” we joke, and secretly I’m pleased I have something to ding on the food side at risk of sounding too flowery with all the positives I’m about to relay. Because really that’s what you should focus on.
Christian’s cocktails are superb. We’d prior relished a mezcal sour stained an opaque blue from by Lee Spirits creme de violette, and the Ancho Old Fashioned with Mexican whiskey, Ancho Reyes and mole bitters. I felt compelled to revisit the El Jefe, another mezcal sipper mixed with Amaro Averna, sweet vermouth and allspice liqueur; I love how the mezcal smokiness folds into the herbal bitter element, with captivating burnt orange and cedar smoke aromatics.
But for new-to-us drinks, we this time pick the Mangoneada, Tiki Tequila and Mexican Blood & Sand. The first is based on the beloved slushie drink made with mangoes and chamoy (commercial pickled chile and fruit sauce) with a Tajín rimmed glass. Here it gets boozy with tequila added, plus lime and serrano pepper for more heat joining the sour-sweet-spicy affair, and the mouth-puckering tamarind candy straw that’s included sends it.
Even more refreshing and island invoking is the Painkiller cocktail-inspired Tiki Tequila served in a pineapple-shaped glass, with pineapple, orange and lime juices plus finishing allspice liqueur with notes of nutmeg. Lastly, what makes the traditional Blood & Sand “Mexican” is the substitution of mezcal for the usual scotch spirit; mezcal’s earthy smokiness plays beautifully where scotch’s inherent peatiness would typically balance the drink’s sweet vermouth and Heering cherry liqueur with orange juice acidity. Here he’s also added lime. Brilliant. (Yes there’s also blended and frozen margaritas available and frozen sangria, plus appropriate pairing beers, wines and neat tequila and mezcal pours.)
To antojitos (starters), we don’t want to waste tummy real estate on chips and salsa or guacamole. This isn’t the type eatery where the chips and salsa are complimentary; everything’s à la carte. And though they all sound awesome, we’re sure we’ll be too quickly filled by lobster or brisket quesadillas or poke nachos. For those, I’ll have to return with devoted focus. I do nab a mini sampling of the bacon and beer queso made with chorizo and Negra Modelo and it’s damn good, but I know that’s food-coma-inducing for me, so the sample’s just perfect to ward off FOMO. (Or more like what I call FONKWIL: fear-of-not-knowing-what-it’s-like.)
For mains, though there’s a burrito, chimichanga and combo platter, tacos dominate the offerings (there’s 17 styles listed in the $4 to $5 range, with one $6 one) and we’re happy to pile in as many as realistic in a sitting. I like that enchiladas, tamales and rellenos are treated more like side items, in single portions for $4.50, $5 and $6 respectively, allowing for easy add ons to our taco spread.
The rellenos are huge, filled with a thick core of Chihuahua cheese. Their thin breading sogs fairly quickly under the tart tomato sauce, with creamy crema glazing and Cotilla crumble garnish making for an overall very dairy affair. We pick a pork tamale that rates pretty standard-good though the masa’s notably looser bound, appearing a touch overly moist and reminiscent of grits in a way. The red salsa with it shines, medium spicy with fruity brightness.
We aren’t expecting to be as blown away as we are by the enchilada, though. We order a chicken mole and it’s so stunning we promptly order a beef mole version as well to double-check our glee. Yes, the mole is that damn amazing; Christian tells me it’s the same his dad’s been serving in Chicago for 15 years, and it may be the finest we’ve ever had. (I’m paranoid in writing that, like what if they do slip on consistency? They can’t, they mustn’t!) The faint anise is just perfect, and none of the many ingredients fall out of harmony. It’s not too sweet or chocolaty and there’s nice spice counterpoint and even an umami-like depth. Seriously, you gotta go for it.
To the main attraction, the tacos: among others, we really enjoyed our lengua and cabeza on our first visit as well as a vegetarian sweet potato taco (the Camote Al Pastor) with pineapple Chile Morita salsa. This time around, we revisit a couple and try others unexplored by us. The first is another vegetarian taco, a roasted zucchini with poblano corn, tangy, vegan avocado crema (that will drip all over your hand, steel yourself) and pleasing fried sweet potato threads for textural crunch punctuating the finish. Next up, staying in the light category, we go for the shrimp plus a Maui fish (guiltily choosing fried over blackened preparation). The prawns are cooked beautifully soft on the first, and among toppings the lemon crema really pops the flavor with citrus punch. Aside from the delicate white fish, what makes the Maui taco excel is its array of fruity, sour and zingy notes from pineapple-tequila salsa, tropical slaw and chipotle tartar sauce; I highly recommend this one.
To heavier bites, another no-brainer is the quesabirria: stringy, tender beef with a wonderful guajillo and chile de árbol consommé on the side plus onion, cilantro and salsa verde sealed in with a Chihuahua cheese melt that fuses the corn tortilla shut. There’s a story behind the lively steak chimichurri taco with a chimichurri pesto, which has won awards, so either refer to my prior article or ask the staff, but do make sure to get the taco. Last on our spread, the fried chicken taco surprises us a bit because I’m kinda expecting a crunchy chicken tender type thing but instead it’s more in a chewy, pounded cutlet form and along with the listed fresh cabbage blend and smoky-sweet chipotle agave aioli there’s a generous heap of not-listed, mashed avocado. I’m not complaining but we are perplexed at first, trying to discern whether we received the wrong taco. I might recommend the chicken pipian over it, which gifts a garlic aioli and green mole sauce.
Anyway, from all these descriptors, you can probably glean that these aren’t just average tacos; they’re boutique. Layered, complex and creative. Also many of them time-tested at the Chicago area eatery the De Los Santos family long-ago dialed in. Zocalo’s strong start out of the gate speaks to experience and longevity, so they may be a newbie on our scene, but they’re hardly new at this. It shows.
Zocalo
418 S. Tejon St., #100, 719-344-8392, zocalocolorado.com
Open at 11 a.m. daily; until 4 p.m., Sundays, 9 p.m. Mondays-Thursdays and 11 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays
*Special thanks this week to Ryan Hannigan of Focus on the Beer, who designed my logos.
*This is my very first posted review on Substack, behind the subscriber paywall, at that. I’m still learning all the tools on the platform and I don’t have an editor. (It’s just me!) If you see any mistakes I’ve made, especially in formatting, or layout, please leave me a comment below or feel free to reach out directly. All feedback welcome and helpful.
This is the kind of content we need. LOVE how you can write everything you need to without getting it cut down to fit a print spread. We liked Zocalo's food, but the counter-service was very odd for the place's decor. Glad they fixed that!
Now, I gotta try the mole! My only real disappointment was the lobster quesadilla. I couldn't taste the lobster. Tasty idea that doesn't quite work.