No Bull: Matador Cantina is Terrific

No Bull: Matador Cantina is Terrific
By Rich Manning

There is one constant ingredient in all Mexican food: love. Yes, I know that such a line sounds a bit hackneyed and cliched – okay it sounds a lot hackneyed and chiched – but it has always rung true in my experience. I grew up in a largely Hispanic area about fifteen minutes southeast of downtown Los Angeles, amongst the grit of dying steel mills and bustling train stockyards, where a good day partially consisted of not being downwind from the acrid odors that emanated from the nearby Farmer John processing plant. Naturally, I had a lot of situations where I had the pleasure in consuming authentic Latino food, whether it was from dinner at a friend’s house, a school or church potluck, or from a host of different area restaurants. And the dishes that crowd my memories all were made with the best ingredients, contained absolutely zero traces of corner cutting, and were uniquely prepared in a way that relied more on feel and innovation rather than by the numbers recipes. In other words, they loved the foods they were making, and were eager to distribute that love to anyone who wanted to partake.

Because of my childhood, I always get a bit geeked up when I find a Mexican restaurant whose kitchen is modeled in the traditions that I so thoroughly enjoyed as a youth. Recently, my wife and I were fortunate to find such a place smack dab in the middle of downtown Fullerton, in the form of Matador Cantina.

Now, because its locale is in a revitalized area of Fullerton rife with venues steeped in chic, I was hoping that Matador’s look would be in line with those kinds of places, and didn’t resort to the trappings that make up many a Mexican restaurant’s décor. Not that I don’t appreciate that kind of style, mind you; it just has its place, and that place is not downtown Fullerton. Thankfully, Matador agreed in this assessment. In fact Matador looked sleek, dark, and metropolitan, and the minimal decorative touches that did tie to the cuisine like the vibrant paintings of bullfighters and the old-school neon cactus façade gave Matador a natural charm that did feel organic. Indeed, this is most likely the chicest Mexican restaurant you’ll find in North County.

Of course, some people may feel slightly intimidated by the lack of “traditional” festooning, as if that somehow will mean the cuisine will be an inferior version of Mexican food. I don’t understand this mindset – after all, it is a given that the way a place looks and the way the food tastes is mutually exclusive in other, non-ethnic venues – but it is out there. And Matador Cantina heartily proves once and for all how such pre-conceived notions are utterly silly. Matador’s executive chef David Dennis is a guy who, like me, grew up in a largely Hispanic area. However, unlike me, he used his environment to his culinary advantage and consumed knowledge of preparing and perfecting the art of Mexican food (as opposed to me who merely just consumed the cuisine). When we found out about his background, we instantly knew that there was one item that we needed to try: Refried beans. At first, that may sound a bit odd, since beans to Mexican entrees is akin to the potato side in American dishes. However, finding well-prepared refried beans that taste creamy and fatty and smooth in spite of the texture is nothing short of a pure joy. And David’s refried beans absolutely sang to our hearts. Based on this alone, we knew we were in good hands.

Throughout the samples of cuisine we had throughout the night, David proved our assumption to be spot on. The tasty mahi-mahi tacos that led off the meal, served up in a traditional street food size, were given a near-wood smoked quality when dipped in the accompanying chipotle sauce which worked really well. Meanwhile, the carnitas tasted exactly the way it was intended to; tender, moist, and slightly smoky. Utter perfection. The chile relleno that we had displayed the craftsmanship that Matador puts into their dishes, as the blend of chicken, Oaxaca and cream cheeses, and green chiles created a striking mélange of colors that looked like a salad. The components of the dish combined perfectly, and the tomatillo avocado salsa that draped over the pablano casing gave it a nice, mild finish. This same salsa made a return appearance on the seafood enchiladas I enjoyed, and just like in the case of the chile relleno, it worked magic. The reason it was great is that unlike hotter sauces, it worked in conjunction with the natural flavors of the seafood. This enabled their sweetness to be much more prominent, particularly the crab.

The presence of this salsa spoke volumes about the innovation that Matador gives to some of their dishes. However, these unique touches feel organic rather than forced, mainly because most of the time the innovation is contained within the ingredient parameters of Mexican cuisine. This gives all the dashes of originality that really cool homespun vibe found in great Mexican food. This was certainly the case in the albondigas soup, which was served in a spicy tomato based broth rather than the traditional clear broth. This gave the soup a subtle piquancy that surprised and delighted us, especially since the starring meatball absorbed some of that quality. Plus, the rice in the soup actually had some teeth to it, which is quite a rare treat to experience in this particular dish. The originality also made its way to the bar in the form of their jalapeno martini I enjoyed throughout the meal. Rimmed with a line of salt on the edge of the glass, the libation wafted somewhere in between the land of martini and margarita and was refreshing, although the latent kick of the pepper may be off-putting to those who are not adept to handling heat. The culinary experimentation did disembark from traditional Mexican mores in the form of Matador’s chorizo ravioli, as pasta is typically nowhere to be found in such a venue. However, don’t be afraid to buck from tradition in this case, as the Mexican/Italian fusion was exceptional, primarily because the homemade chorizo was fantastic, plus the added drizzle of their chipotle sauce gave the dish a bonus round of goodness.

As great as these entrees were – and they really were tremendous – a journey to Matador is simply futile without indulging in one of their fundidos. Yes, that is plural. David has created two of them; the traditional queso fundido, and a chocolate chip cookie fundido. Now, most fundidos I’ve ordered have this tendency to become a glop of cheesy tundra if not eaten right away, which tends to affect the dish’s psychological appeal. Not so with Matador’s version; a three-cheese blend which was filled with homemade chorizo, beans, and chiles. It came out at the outset of our meal, and my wife and I were able to enjoy its insane deliciousness in pretty much its original consistency all the way through the last pre-dessert samplings. The dessert fundido, on the other hand, quickly dissolved into a decadently warm, gooey mess of cookie, chocolate, caramel, and whipped cream. It was indeed as fabulous as it sounded. Simply stated, if you come to Matador and don’t order at least one of these incredible items, you’re doing it wrong.
However, I do implore you to come to Matador Cantina if you want to taste Mexican cuisine done right. Truly, love is truly the main ingredient here, and its infusion is abundantly clear in every bite.

For More Information Please visit: www.thematador.com