First Bite
A Lot Like the Old Oyamel, Plus Grasshoppers
"Have you been here before?"
Even as I shake my head at the server's question, posed to me recently at Oyamel, my mind is registering "yes." For while I haven't dropped by this address since the Mexican restaurant moved in late last month, I have eaten at its previous incarnation in Crystal City, now the home of Bebo Trattoria da Roberto Donna. And over the years, I knocked back countless tamales (washed down with countless margaritas) at the restaurant that preceded the "new" Oyamel, the similarly themed Andale.
  With butterflies above and grasshoppers below, Jos? Andr?s's Oyamel has relocated and reopened in Penn Quarter. (By James M. Thresher -- The Washington Post) |
All of which is a long way of reporting that star chef José Andrés, who now counts seven restaurants in his portfolio -- most in Penn Quarter, including Oyamel -- enjoys a shorter commute to work these days.
Oyamel's latest incarnation is a quarter the size of the original, yet almost as dramatic. Remember the swarms of tin butterflies that floated above diners at the old place? They're back, albeit closer to our heads. So is the lustrous orange palette. We miss watching the pat-pat-patting tortilla makers when we stroll in, but the visual has been replaced in the new joint by seviche assemblers and sorbet scoopers who toil behind a small bar to the side of the cork-paved main dining room, where a video montage of street life in Mexico City further animates the real estate.
The food drill is much the same as before, with the bulk of the menu devoted to Mexican small plates, or antojitos. Tamales stuffed with shredded chicken and draped with tomatillo sauce are a quiet comfort. Tuna seviche is clearly influenced by Andrés's nearby Cafe Atlantico (the fish is tucked inside a sheer slice of jicama). Black bean soup reveals uncommon depth, bolstered as it is with aged cotija cheese and a fried ancho chili pepper, which can be crumbled into the beans for more heat. But the gratis chips taste ordinary, the garlic shrimp are a snooze, and every time I take a sip of the signature margarita, dressed up with a cumulus cloud of "salt air," I sprout a white mustache. I can't stop at just one taco, though, particularly the hand-shaped corn wrap enclosing barbecued pork with pickled onions and sour orange.
Anyone needing help with decisions can just look for the six or so picks circled in red crayon, supposedly the chef's recommendations. ( Joe Raffa, the top toque at the late Majestic Cafe in Old Town, fills that role here.)
The surprise hits on Oyamel's menu, according to Andrés, are tacos de chapulines, crunchy with grasshoppers. One recent evening, almost 40 of the snacks exited the kitchen. "We didn't expect it," says Andrés.
No word on how much tequila jump-started the orders.
Oyamel, 401 Seventh St. NW, 202-628-1005,http:/
