GASTRONORMOUS

I lived in the East Village of Manhattan for 11 years, 10 of which were spent on East 3rd Street, right at the cusp of the EV and the Lower East Side. Over the years, I watched the L.E.S.’s Jewish zone west of Ludlow and Latin one east of Ludlow morph into a unified non- denominational and pan-ethnic district of nothing but hipster bars, restaurants, and shops.

Of course Max Fish and the Pink Pony were cool neighborhood destinations long before the hipsters moved in en force. And so was Festival Mexicano. Not a hipster joint, per se, but once the bar Welcome to the Johnson’s moved in across the street, it wasn’t long until the good cheap food and cheaper margaritas drew them in.

Don’t get me wrong, you mustn’t come here expecting culinary excellence. I have long lamented New York’s lack of good Mexican Food, the likes of which can be found in every neighborhood of every town in all of California, and while Festival Mexicano is not as good as the California Mexican food I grew up on, it seemed closer to it than much else in New York.

But in fact, I admit I was first drawn to The Festival because of the decor, which I found ironically amusing–colorful serapes and artificially aged photos of bullet-belt-slung banditos hung on the walls, and one wall was decorated with a fresco of a Mexican village. But it was once I sampled the food, and the ridiculously cheap margaritas, that I became hooked.

Not much has changed at Festival Mexicano over the 10 years I have been eating there. The prices were raised once (margaritas went up 50 cents to $4). I mirthfully noticed when they discovered the squeeze- bottle method of sour cream garnish delivery. I panicked a few years ago when they shut down for renovations, fearing they would go the way of other old neighborhood places, but they did re-open with a new ceiling, ceiling fans, and a new jukebox. Otherwise, though, nothing has really changed.

The margaritas are not out of a machine, but whipped up to a froth in a blender you can hear whirring in the kitchen. The pleasantly salty, avocado- studded chicken ranchero soup remains a favorite. The sour cream-cut guacamole doesn’t keep us from ordering the satisfyingly old-school guacamole nachos. And the waitresses remain slightly surly (and it isn’t a schtick–they truly are not happy to serve you).

TO BE CONTINUED…

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 26th, 2008 at 11:31 am and is filed under Food musings, Restaurant reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.