Dos Banditos Restaurant Reviews: authenticity at the Arizona Cafe - By N.L. Belardes and Willieboy

On Baker Street...

Willieboy Bandito:

OK—I picked the Arizona Cafe. I admit, I've been there before. I wanted to start out our "Dos Bandidos Restaurant Review", with what I would consider (being Hispanic and all... not), authentic Mexican food. To set a standard BEFORE we visited all the “Gringo El Amigo Locos" out there. So I'm sure there will be a Mexican out there who will want to argue the "Arizona Cafe is not authentic point". Whatever. Argue with someone who cares. The atmosphere is classic "Bakersfield" Mexican, with generous use of Formica, maps of Mexico (courtesy of Corona), bad art, uninspired menu, and red vinyl booths.



Before I review the actual food l would like to share a thought, which you may find true for yourself. When I'm hungry, Mexican food always sounds good but afterwards I wonder why I think this. I mean, it starts out good—endless baskets of hot, greasy chips and salsa. But about midway through the meal I always feel stuffed, lethargic and maybe a little nauseous. The weird part is... I'll continue to eat. Like Jabba the Hut, I'm still shoveling chips in my mouth while waiting for the check.



Which brings me to:

The chips were excellent—crisp, salty and warm. The salsa was "OK". A bit uninspired—prompting NL to ask the question, "Do you think this is fresh?"



"Of course it's fresh you idiot!" I said, secretly thinking it might be doctored up Pace salsa. I ordered the Chili Colorado ($8). I've had it before and I know it to be delicious. Spicy with a smoky molé backbeat. I talked NL into the Chile Verde, which I also have tried and don't really care for—although I told NL how great it was because I wanted him to try it.

Let me explain: it is good, don't get me wrong. It's just that it doesn't fit into my preconceived gringo ideal of Verde. They cook it on the bone and serve it that way. So it's like a plate of boiled ribs. And the sauce isn't really green, it's sort of brown—so it's not really Chile Verde, but more Chile Browne. Chingpea (BTW—I've never referred to her by this name—nor will I ever again except in this goofy blogosphere) had some enchiladas and complained that there was too much chicken. That's like saying there's too much lettuce in the salad. Go figure.


Chile Colorado at the Arizona Cafe...

If you look at the pictures—you can see the main course takes up the whole plate and the side dishes are just that... (BTW—you can just ignore them. bleh.) so there's no room to "prep" up a burrito out of the delicious home made tortillas. So you have to do one of those "Ohhh sheeeet this is hot" tortilla toss from hand to hand while at the same time slopping molten lava Colorado on it... and then ending up laying it on the grimy table to fold it up anyway, negating all attempts for a sanitary meal.

Service is non-existent. Like when the waiter/jefe asked if we wanted refills—it was like he was secretly willing us not to.

It seemed unusually busy. Overall—I recommend it for an alternative Mexican lunch retreat (Alternative to El Adobe-Toritio-Amigo-Que Pasa fare).

Chips and Salsa: ***1/2
Food: ***1/2
Service: *
Atmosphere: ***


N.L. Bandito:

Willieboy and I decided to evolve our experience with La Costa Earwig into something bigger and better for the community. How? By diving as deep as we could into Bakersfield Mexican food culture.

Recently I talked to the Ska King of Bakotopia, Matt Munoz. He said, “Bakersfield has the best Mexican food restaurants in the U.S.” Talk about a bold statement…

And so the adventure began. Willieboy and I took chingpea along to our inaugural report destination: Arizona Café in old town Kern on Baker Street. Oh yes, bums walk freely down the verandas of old town Kern. The buildings are slapped together like old adobe bricks made from refried beans, clay and grass. And yet, rumors had it that within such an eyesore rested one of the most authentic Mexican food restaurant experiences you could ever have in Bakersfield. Even the front door to the restaurant was more like wandering through a rancheria kitchen door than a restaurant. In a way, it was also like breaking into an Old West prison.


The pool hall down the street...

We walked in and were instantly thrown into a restaurant that seemed ripe for a shootout. Weathered Mexican cowboys wandered in, while an entire family hung out where two tables had been pushed together. They seemed to ignore the vaqueros and semi-bald waiter who strangely reminded me of Cheech Marin in the movie, Desperado.


A rustic feel... yes, the paintings are that faded.

A fully stocked bar could be seen behind a long bartop set with rustic tiles. Tattered and faded paintings lined a high ceiling. Could blood splatter that high in a shootout? I considered flicking the salsa from the warm chips. Yes, warm chips are good. The salsa however, seemed like it was poured from some vat of pre-made bulk restaurant dip. Yet, the warmness of the chips made up for any sub par salsa considerations.

Authentic is the best word to describe the presentation of the food: a plate of Chile Verde on the bone, and two side bowls—pinto beans (not refried) and rice (not enough rice for a rice eater like myself). The waiter, slow in bringing chips, gave us a shifty-eyed glance but was especially prompt with bringing our entrees, which included an extra bowl of the Chile Verde sauce and tortillas so hot that I practically flipped one onto the waiter’s bald head.



The Chile Verde sauce was not green. Didn’t matter. Though it was as rustic as the cowboy hats and tiles, it was tasty, and that’s what mattered. I poured sauce on my rice while Willieboy dumped some of his Colorado mole onto his…

Chile Verde on the bone you ask? Yes, it was marvelous, though a little fatty. The meat peeled right off and had a delightful semi-greasy flavor. I could barely finish my meal even though I sought more rice.

Of course, before we showed up, Willieboy mentioned I would dirty up my white T-shirt. Right. I’m Chicano. He thinks I can’t balance some meat and rice in a tortilla without sloshing some onto myself?

I did.


A blast of Chile Verde!

And let me tell you, it was the kind of spray and splatter I expected to see on the walls. Only upon closer examination, there was a mysterious air about the splatter pattern. Could it be? No. Yes! It was like a stipple painting of the Virgin herself. Perhaps authentic in old town Kern means mystical, spiritual and tasty… We decided right away to offer the shirt on ebay, unwashed, as is—you know the routine.



Just don’t expect the best service in the world from the Arizona Café. Looked like a husband and wife were the waiter and waitress, and she looked like she might have snuck a couple of sips from the old Corona six-pack below the cash register. So I think we lucked out in the deal. We only got our drinks refilled once, and even then it looked like a gunfight about to break out. Sorry we asked! Willieboy had to tackle the waiter just to pay the bill: about $8 a meal plus drinks. They had cheaper lunch specials on the menu, but we weren’t in the house to save money. We wanted authenticity, and we got it.

Chips and Salsa: ***
Food: ***
Service: *1/2 (Do you expect good service from an El Mariachi film?)
Atmosphere: ****

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Michael "Willieboy" Willis is a grizzled 46 year old graphic artist. His studio, coincidentally called "Willis Design Studios", has been operating in Bakersfield for the last 26 years. His 15 minutes of fame came in 1997 when he co-authored a best selling book about webpage design titled "Web Pages That Suck". The rest remains a mystery. His personal page is www.willieboy.com.

N.L. Belardes is a novelist and blogger out of Bakersfield, California. He’s on myspace.com/nlbelardes and www.nlbelardes.com.

This entry was posted by N.L. Belardes, on Tuesday, October 17, 2006. You can leave your response.