Review: Hacienda Jalapenos

A 21-year-old chef puts suburban spot on the Mexican cuisine map

By Phil Vettel

May 21, 2003



2 stars (out of four)

Rating key:
4: Outstanding
3: Excellent
2: Very good
1: Good
Satisfactory
Unsatisfactory

When a restaurant calls itself Hacienda Jalapenos, my culinary expectations are not high. I envision sombrero-and-burro decor, plastic tablecloths and a laminated menu offering nine kinds of tacos and a slew of gringo-friendly, faux-Mex chow.

What I generally do not expect are tables topped with colorful linens and brass chargers in a quiet, brick-lined dining room. Nor do I expect to encounter a wunderkind chef who, at the tender age of 21, is churning out high-quality regional Mexican cuisine reminiscent of dishes you might find at Ixcapuzalco and Adobo Grill.

But that's what I found at this nine-month-old, south-suburban gem. The biggest surprise, in fact, is that the restaurant wasn't particularly crowded; with food this good, the place should be packed every weekend.

Hacienda Jalapenos is Irma and Filiberto Davila's third restaurant; they also own a basic-Mexican concept named Jalapeno's, with locations in Orland Park and Oak Lawn. The "Hacienda" prefix was added to their latest restaurant to project a more serious and upscale image.

The owners and the chef go way back--21 years, to be precise. Diana Davila is Irma and Filiberto's daughter, and she has worked in her parents' restaurants since fifth grade. "I started out washing dishes," she says. "I got to be the cashier as soon as I was tall enough to see over the register." Davila also attended the culinary program at Joliet Junior College, and worked several stages at the highly regarded Courtright's under chefs Greg Lutes and Michael Tsonton.

Davila's cooking is culled from childhood memories of home cooking, as well as dishes encountered on the family's numerous Mexican vacations. "We traveled there every summer, a different region each time," she says. Her menu is compact and focused, offering a half-dozen appetizers, a couple of soups and salads and 10 entrees.

Starters are so inexpensive ($4-$6) that you'll be tempted to order them all, but pay particular attention to the plump crabcake, assembled with serrano, poblano and bell peppers and served over creamy roasted-pepper sauce alongside a "tropical" pico de gallo containing banana, plantain and pineapple. A dish dubbed "huaraches," meaning "sandals," are indeed sandal-shaped slabs of dense corn masa, topped with an appealing mix of pickled cactus, carrots, black beans and queso fresco.

Tostaditas are enjoyable, if unwieldy, piled high with chipotle-seasoned chicken, shredded lettuce and sour cream. Chimichangas, made with eggroll wrappers instead of tortillas, are filled to the bursting point with pork, chorizo sausage and Chihuahua cheese.

There is also guacamole, prepared tableside from a rolling cart, an innovation Davila picked up from Adobo Grill. At your request, a waiter rolls up a cart and proceeds to cut into a ripe avocado, rapidly adding lime juice, tomatoes, onions and cilantro, mashing it all into a coarse mix. The waiter will ask for your spice-level tolerance, adding diced jalapeno peppers accordingly. (If you say you like it spicy, he will believe you.)

Speaking of spicy, Davila's best entree is the huachinango Cubano, a pan-fried red snapper served whole over garlicky rice with a fiery salsa of tomatoes, habanero peppers and coconut-flavored rum. The salsa is attention-getting, no doubt, but it doesn't overwhelm the fish. A great dish.

Davila perks up her other seafood as well, saucing a nicely grilled piece of halibut with a puree of jalapenos, garlic and epazote, and serving seared sea scallops over a smoky pasilla-pepper reduction.

The kitchen is just as serious about its meat. The carne asada here is made with prime ribeye, served alongside cheese-laced mashed potatoes and grilled onions over an apricot-chipotle mole. There's also a hefty filet mignon, with avocado salad and black beans, and a salsa motulena of tomato, roasted jalapeno and chorizo. The chile relleno (stuffed pepper) is filled with cubes of tender pork, raisins and a roasted-tomato garlic sauce, and is a bargain at $14.

There's also a five-course tasting-dinner option, priced at $45; Davila generally assembles this from items on the menu, though she'll throw in one or two unique features--making the huaraches appetizer with crabmeat and huitlacoche (corn mushrooms), for instance.

Emily Ocampo's desserts include a fine orange-flavored flan, surrounded by a colorful prickly-pear sauce. There also are dessert empanadas, bite-sized dough packets filled with apples and pears. Mexican coffee is made with tequila and Kahlua, the ingredients assembled tableside and flamed. We enjoyed the dramatics, but one night our waiter made such a production out of the flaming and pouring that by the time he finished--to applause, yet--the coffee was no better than lukewarm. Either start with scalding-hot coffee or move the show along, please.

There's not much to the wine list--about a dozen bottles, including a trio of Mexican wines--but prices are low. The restaurant offers more sipping tequilas than wine, and the bar makes a pretty good margarita.

Service is a bit wet behind the ears, and one of the waiters ends each sentence with the word "guys," but staffers are attentive and very friendly.

The carpeted dining room is pleasantly quiet; music plays softly in the background and a gurgling fountain adds a little white noise. The sound level picks up a bit on weekend evenings, when live music is featured in the downstairs Bar Luna, and a more youthful clientele starts pouring in. If that sort of thing appeals, you'll be happy to know that the cover charge is waived for dinner guests.

Phil Vettel is the Tribune restaurant critic.