
Whenever I go home for Christmas, some things always push my this-is-my-city button. The air in Atlanta is inexplicably warm and sweet. Thing seem easier, less rushed, more American, and with more attitude and good humor. And there’s something that thing that fills a gaping hole in my New York life: damn-good Mexican food.
On a single, gluttonous day, I toured three of Atlanta’s most celebrated Mexican restaurants, drinking too many margaritas and consuming far more cheese than a person should in a 24-hours. (Then I played with gusto with my four brilliant nieces and nephews.)
Round 1: Taqueria Del Sol
The line was long when I made my first stop around 1:30 at the now-swinging Westside Provisions warehouse district. (All hail the genius of Anne Quatrano.) But the simple fish tacos made flaky, buttery tortillas, prepared on site, were perfectly pitched. The fresh, sweet corn chowder got a balancing kick of chili, totally changing my perception of what a chowder could be. And the margarita? Tart and not too strong, but the food shined brighter. Why, oh why, can’t you find white cheese dip with jalapenos in New York? Criminal.
Round 2: No Mas! Cantina
This artful Mexican compound tucked into Castleberry Hill takes the prize for its margaritas. Triple Sec, Cointreau, and top-shelf tequila in liberal amounts--but it all finds balance with the addition of fresh squeezed lime juice. No sugary extra crap here but each glass comes with a bracelet with tiny oval pictures of Catholic idols that you can slap on and take home. (My companion from San Francisco tells me that the hipsters in the Mission are all for these charms.) The flan was creamy and crustardy with bold cinnamon notes that don‘t mess around.
Round 3: Frontera
Oh, how I long for the words “hot plate!” as a heap of perfectly authentic, cheese-soaked Mexican is thrust in front of me. This is my family go-to and it was as great as my often-dreams. The chunky guac was just as creamy, tart and piquant as I wanted it to be. A firey tomato stew-stuffed bell pepper is soaked in white Mexican cheese, then baked until piping hot and served with the always appropriate refried beans and rice. It’s 7:30 and I’m home sweet.