Happy Hours: Cabrito, West Village, New York City

Monday, May 4, 2009

Cabrito, West Village, New York City

Drunk on Goat

Cabrito. Sour orange and chili-rubbed goat,
slow roasted and served chopped with Salsa Borracha
and warm flour tortillas

After coming back slightly inebriated from a wonderful dinner at
Cabrito, I wrote an email to some of my friends. Looking back,
the email sounds a bit over-enthusiastic and slightly alcohol-fuelled.

But I am reproducing it here anyway, as a more sober review
would perhaps not do justice to this fabulous meal.

--- On Tue, 4/14/09, Argha Sen wrote:
From: Argha Sen Subject: Re: Cabrito To:

Guys - thanks for trying for the reservations. Well I Sodi was booked and so was Scarpetta and so was Convivio. And that too on a Tuesday night. So much for Recession America.

So we went to the next restaurant on my list. And boy was I glad. Was I glad glad glad. And happy. HAPPY.

This was Cabrito, the Mexican place Frank Bruni raved about, in the West Village, on 50 Carmine St between Bleeker and Bedford. What an amazing, satisfying, heartwarming Mexican meal. The energy and easygoing buzz of West Village, a slightly shabby-chic decor and fantastic fantastic fantastic food . And no Burritos, Tacos, Enchiladas, Chimichingas.

Instead we had: GOAT. Sour orange, garlic and chili-rubbed goat. Slow roasted, ( roasted real slooow, like real sloooow) and served chopped with Salsa Barracha and warm flour tortillas. Meat falling off the bone, no gamey goaty smell, but not delicate, dainty either. This was goat with real character and substance, but no punctuation, no commas, no fullstops. And the salsa was sweeeeet. Do you get it ? The contrast, the textures, the taste ?

And CHICKEN. A plump, juicy chicken, rubbed with chili and served with a buttery rice studded with raisins, fried plantains and coconut. Do I have to tell you that the chicken was juicy, like JOOOOCY. And the rice. Oh.

Well the Fatty Crab Ale and the second twangy ale whose name I forgot to note obviously heightened the satisfaction and is perhaps muddling my brain a bit as I write. Mick Jagger was wrong. You can get SATISFACTION. And I didn't even try Bruni's recommended dishes: the Carnitas and the roasted Poblano peppers in cream.

I asked if the chef was Mexican. The waiter said "no, but he was born on the border of Arizona, so close !"

Viva La Mexico. You rule. New York City is great

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