You may want to go get some guacamole today.
These impressions, of three leading options in two downtown blocks, may help you decide where you want to go get it.
My first stop was a place of great guac renown: Geronimo. The Tableside Guacamole ($20) wasn’t actually made tableside, but the prep station was close enough that I could see and hear the action, including the gentle clacking of the wide and shallow wooden spoons against the thick stone mortar.
For $20, you’d expect this version of the dish to be some combination of generous and delicious, and I’m pleased to report it was both. The flavors were extremely well-integrated, making it difficult to tell where the beguiling creaminess and floral earthiness (from the avocado and cilantro) ended and the subtleties of the acid and sweetness (from the lime, tomato and onion) began. We ordered it with a spice level between “mild” (no jalapeños) and “medium” (some jalapeños), but I think we could’ve easily gone full medium without overheating. (You can alternatively choose “hot” or, if you push for it, a level beyond that, which summons habaneros.) The house-made chips, delicately salted, were thick and sturdy but didn’t eat heavy, and the overall portioning was impressively large, satisfying three of us with ease.
Two of us next headed to Pacífico, whose tropical coastal colors and textures, including an aquatic back bar and ceiling, swirl around and over as if you’re dining in some magical underwater paradise. The Pacífico Guacamole ($18) also came in a dark heavy mortar, with chips that were also house-made, but thinner-cut and with a wheatier flavor. The flavors of the guacamole—avocado blended with tomato, red onion and lime juice and topped with a pile of diced cilantro—were less unified than at Geronimo, but the overall effect, mirroring the higher-key decor, was brighter, bolder and more dynamic.
If you want to get clearer ingredient impressions—of the avocado, the cilantro, especially the lime—this one’s for you. Kind of like deciding between smooth and chunky peanut butter, your preference, if you have one, will hinge on something personal. As for me, I appreciated the respective beauty of each approach and couldn’t decide which one I liked more.
Our third and final stop was Barracuda—or rather, the restaurant it’s nested within, 80 Proof, because the back room Barracuda occupies is only open until 3 p.m. on Sundays. Still, the 80 Proof staff allowed us to order off Barracuda’s food menu, which soon had the Guacamole & Tostones ($15) arriving at our table.
Made from green plantains that were fried, then smashed, then fried again, the tostones—chewy throughout, crispy at the edges and dusted with a potent adobo spice blend punched up by cumin—immediately set this offering apart, as did the margarita glass presentation. With two almost impossible acts to follow, the guacamole itself was somewhat thin and astringent in flavor, calling into question the quality and freshness of that day’s avocados.
Even so, dipping those boldly spiced tostones into it made for a unique and satisfying bite of guacamole, with fingers crossed for many more of those this Cinco de Mayo.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims. Image 1 at Geronimo. Image 2 at Pacífico. Image 3 at 80 Proof/Barracuda.
