I’m not ashamed to say Chipotle was my downtown burrito go-to before it closed, ostensibly temporarily, last September. But the closure did recently nudge me to step outside both habit and neighborhood and try Taqueria Tlaxcala II, a place that must catch the eye of almost everyone who passes by it.
That’s because, despite being set back from lower Whalley and obscured from one direction, it’s got a high-key and high-up paint job. Three thick cuts of color, one each for green, white and red, slant across the whole second story, creating a sense of motion like the waving Mexican flag they clearly represent. Sliding through a gap between a row of parked cars and the retired-for-the-day Taqueria Tlaxcala food truck—the original to the sequel, which parks at Grove and Hillhouse for lunch—I soon learned that, taking a cue from those diagonals overhead, this is a place where diners should lean in.
The Guacamole with Chips ($9) first taught me so. My very nice server, who was somehow both soft-spoken and chatty, said the guac is made to order every time. I ordered it mild, hoping to get a cleaner experience of the ingredients, but the blend of ripe avocado, cilantro, tomato and onion was actually too clean, too mild. Fortunately, a shaker of salt on the table started a flavor rally, while a beautifully ripe lime wedge that had been perched over the top changed the game. I shook and squeezed and squeezed some more, and everything brightened up to a really nice place.
I relearned the lesson with the Vegetarian Burrito ($13), which wrapped a supple flour tortilla around a mantle of Mexican rice, which in turn wreathed a molten, savory core of refried beans studded with cooling pops of lettuce, tomato and cilantro. Eating it that way, including with some silky avocado tucked into the overlap of the tortilla, was enjoyable, with a seductive flavor I couldn’t quite pinpoint. But the dish really took off after I dared to crack open the plastic ramekin of tomatillo salsa, which was fabulously bright, spicy, salty and herbaceous.
A fancier or more assertive kitchen would’ve applied that salsa—and that earlier salt and lime—before it ever got to the table. In my case, at least, Tlaxcala II left it to the customer to know what he wanted, but it also gave him the tools to get there.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims.
