Cha Cha’s Brings New Life to Old Mexico

By Rich Manning

When you hear the phrase “Mexican restaurant,” what initially comes to mind? Chances are, your bean is instantly populated with thoughts of buildings laid heavy with faux crumbling adobe, archways, and other amenities designed to mimic something from days of yore (or in Orange County’s case, days of Yorba). Additionally, you would pretty much expect the menu to be populated with overstuffed tacos, burritos, chimichangas, and other familiar staples that have inadvertently become a sort of bastardized, Americanized comfort food to the point that there is almost a disconnect to the cuisine’s roots. So much so, in fact, that it almost seems impossible at times to imagine Mexican cuisine as being a progressive, innovative playground where words like “fusion” and “creativity” actually can take root. Not that there’s anything wrong with the familiar, of course – one of the first places my wife and I sought out when we moved into our new home was a reputable taqueria – but it’s sad knowing that such a narrow view of Mexican food exists out there because of this commonality. However, Cha Cha’s in Brea completely bucks the mold of what people have grown to expect from Mexican cuisine, much to the delight of pretty much anyone who cares enough about food to know that the only borders that exist in the creation of cuisine purely lie within.

The first clue that tips you off into knowing that this is not your typical Mexican joint is that it is not designed to look like it was built in 1752. Indeed, the large windows that overlook the downtown Brea area, huge orange geometric lights that descend from the ceilings, and airy openness of the main dining space has much more in common to what you would actually find in a restaurant if you were to travel down to one of Baja’s major ports. As my wife and I made our way through our meal, I couldn’t help but think how much Cha Cha’s would fit right into Ensenda’s scene. The only common thread that one may ascertain from Cha Cha’s compared to the cliched Mexican place is the fact that they run old black-and-white Mexican flicks on a white picket fence above the open kitchen; yet even that adds to a feeling of hipness within the space because nothing else about its look is bogged down in what we would consider “tradition.” The evening’s live music from Cha Cha’s Wednesday and weekend “house band” Rumba Tres, while a bit loud at times, also added to the trendy vibe rather than detracted from it. Perhaps this was due to the fact that more astute listeners could pick up on, say, a Spanish language version of “Hotel California,” but whatever the reason, it definitively jibes with Cha Cha’s modern sensibility without even remotely approaching tired mores of other Mexican eateries.

Indeed, it is a good thing that the ambience of Cha Cha’s goes counter to the typical Mexican restaurant, because theirs is not your typical Mexican food menu. Now, some people may have a problem with that, since there is not a chimichanga or taco salad in sight. To that I must say shame on them, because that mentality is causing them to block out what is some truly exciting, forward-thinking cuisine. Executive Chef Gilbert Christian de la Vara seems to draw from a deep well of inspiration to cobble together a menu that seamlessly blends elements from other Latino cultures to create a menu that definitely deserves a distinction as being Mexican fusion. For example, one of the appetizers we indulged in was an order of Cha Cha Fries. Now, I know that fries aren’t typically something you see on a Mexican menu, and that is because the roots of these huge hunks of Yukon Gold potato goodness can be traced to a traditional Spanish tapa called papas fritas. But really, their origin does not matter, because they are perfectly crisped, dusted with herbs, and served with a killer smoked aioli. Surprisingly, potatoes also make a key component in their wood-fired queso fundido, and their roasted flavor combined with the appetizer’s chorizo, peppers and cheese to essentially create an effective take on chili cheese fries. The ceviche here is a must order, as the tart citric tang from the combined forces of lime, lemon, and orange juice lovingly envelops the dish’s onions and hearty shrimp to succinctly create refreshment in a bowl. However, the showstopping starter here is definitely the fresh manila clams, sautéed in garlic, herbs, white wine, butter, and Spanish chorizo. Clean, tender, and sweet with a smidgen of spice, these babies will make you yearn for the pristine, sandy beaches of Baja. If you order these, make sure you sequester your own fair share of tortillas to help soak up the wondrous broth.

With all of the inventiveness going on, it should be noted that Cha Cha’s does know how to handle more familiar items as well. The sextet of street tacos that we dove into proved their mettle in this regard. Yes, there were some unique accents to each wrap, like the grilled pineapple that rode shotgun with carnitas or the mango-habanero salsa that shared space with shrimp. But the undisputed stars here were the meats, which is exactly how any taco worthy of the sidewalk should be like. From the boldness of the carne asada to the ridiculously tenderness of the chicken, these creations served as an important reminder of how effective simplicity can be at times.

By contrast, the bevy of entrees we sampled showed how ingenuity can make even the most beloved familiar dishes almost seem new. Case in point: My favorite Mexican dish is the seafood enchilada, so much so that I find myself trying out a Mexican restaurant and it is on the menu, I’m ordering it without thinking. The only problem with this is that I’ve tried so many seafood enchiladas over the years it takes a lot to knock me out. Well, let the record show that Cha Cha’s version went Manny Pacquiao on my palate. These enchiladas are fantastic, and their secret is the habanero pesto that is draped over the top of them. Rather than using the habanero as a weapon or a calling card for scoville unit shattering bravado, the infamous pepper is properly blended in the green sauce that perfectly tames the sweet richness of the crab and shrimp, giving the dish a subdued dimension that works perfectly. The excellent plate of carnitas we indulged in were nothing short of amazing, as the slow-braised, marinated pork had some fascinating smoky notes that were a direct result from the meat being prepared in the massive wood oven that Cha Cha’s proudly displays in their open kitchen (the only Mexican restaurant in OC that boasts an exposed culinary workspace, by the way). The pan-seared salmon that was featured in the salmon vera-cruz that we tried was ideally light and flaky, and the herbed tomato-olive salsa that was paired with the fish gave the plate a slightly briny quality that gave it a nice touch. The round of entrees was capped off by their signature chicken, spit-roasted in Yucatan spices. While the first bite or two of the large fowl were a little dry, it became more and more succulent and satisfying the closer we got to the bone.

As far as dessert goes, allow me to say something that I not only have never said before, but I never thought I would ever utter: The flan rocked. Far too often, I’ve been subject to flans that were more or less an afterthought instead of an actual dessert. This isn’t the case here, as the caramel treat works in perfect concert with the accompanying vanilla bean ice cream and coconut “cigar” to practically re-invent the dish for those long jaded by inferior versions. The tres leche cake we also sampled was a rather unique treat, in that it was unexpectedly tart as opposed to rich like most of these cakes tend to be. While this may be a bit off-putting to some, people who like a little bite to their dessert should check it out. And chocoholics owe it to themselves to indulge in the decadent dark chocolate banana “taquitos,” which were sweet, rich, and sadly unable to magically reappear once they were devoured.

Speaking of sweet treats, something must be said about their handmade cocktails. From a tasting standpoint, it is evident that just as much hand-crafted care is put in the drinks as there is with the food. From the fruity zing of the mango-habanero margarita to the perfectly tropical notes found in their sangria, the cocktails make the old cliché “there’s something here for everyone” a most appropriate truism.

It really is exciting to see a restaurant like Cha Cha’s in action; a venue that is not afraid to grab hold of a cuisine that in many respects is a bit shopworn from familiarity and invigorate it with new life. In a sense, it is almost like re-discovering Mexican food all over again. Obviously, based on that observation alone Cha Cha’s is not your father’s Mexican restaurant. However, in this case, that is a very good thing.