More Top Picks Best Bluetooth Transmitters For Tvs
player ready...People say that everyone loves the circus. But that’s not entirely true. I know someone who claims to have had a harrowing experience with escaped Lipizzaner horses. Also, clowns live there.
But I defy you to show me one person who doesn’t love tacos.
De Cero, the fancy new taqueria on West Randolph Street, is sort of like a taco circus. It’s in a big rustic space that looks temporary and, come to think of it, has all the comforts of a circus tent. It draws people of all ages and socioeconomic groups, some of whom wear clown pants (by Lilly Pulitzer). They play loud and cheery music. And it’s a huge crowd pleaser. When a $25 platter of assorted soft tacos arrives, people actually gasp, as if the waiter had brought them over on a high wire with a pitcher of margaritas balanced on his head.
Clearly, the self-described “fresh coastal Mexican” that’s being prepared at this self-described “modern-day taqueria” is an idea whose moment has come.
It’s a lovable idea (upscale but not too upscale; no advertisements comparing burritos to your head), but my first visit didn’t start out as well as I’d hoped when I first saw the menu. The chips that came with the guacamole were drenched in oil. The charred octopus in lime cumin dressing was cold and rubbery. And the tacos seemed unremarkable to me and to my taco-aficionado friend. I think we both loved the thought of them–soft tortillas filled with grilled tuna, mango and habanero salsa; seared marlin with pickled jalapeno; battered catfish with Mexican slaw and chipotle mayo; tomatillo pork with white onion, cilantro and lime. But we were disappointed by their collective lack of flavor and charm, even when they had the standard cilantro-lime-jalapeno kick. I would have settled for cheap pizazz.
But I’m a hopeful person, and what holds more promise than a menu with 15 different kinds of tacos? On my second trip, I found one that I like very much: shreds of braised duck with a delicious sweet corn salsa. This makes me want to return to try the 10 others, which include a chicken mole with crema (similar to creme fraiche), sauteed garlic shrimp with pico de gallo, and chicken mole.
That duck taco was really the highlight of my meal, and my friend Anita loved her grilled ahi tuna; it was just a simple slab, pale pink on the inside, but set down in a pool of interesting charred tomato and orange butter salsa that. Even though I am inclined toward anything with mole sauce, I did not have the grilled chicken mole; after some other mild disappointments–a blah jicama and tomato salad that needed more dressing (or maybe a different dressing; this one was just lemon and oil) and a sweet corn soup that sported chunks of roasted poblanos, but not much else of interest–I wanted a sure thing. So I went with the carne asada. It was very nice: thin slices of medium rare (on the rare side, just the way I asked for it) skirt steak, marinated in a jalapeno, cumin and garlic. I also liked the side of pintos with bacon that came with the steak, but I just this minute realized that the tortillas that were supposed to have come with it never did. But never mind.
I’m all about hope and forgiveness. And the place seems to have a magical effect on other people. In fact, I’ve never seen so many happy people (although it could be the great big Slurpee-style specialty drinks; just holding one makes you seem less uptight, more kooky). So I’ll probably go back, once I’ve had the chance to get over the tortilla thing.
———-
De Cero is at 814 W. Randolph St., 312-455-8114. Open for lunch and dinner Mondays through Fridays, Saturdays for dinner only. Closed Sundays. Entrees $10-$17.