At a mention of the phrase “comfort food,” people tend to draw from their roots. I imagine the standard image conjured in mid-America to be blue-plate-special fare: thick slabs of homemade meatloaf, buttered mixed vegetables and a mashed potato volcano overflowing with gravy lava. For me, it’s my mother’s chicken parmesan, breaded cutlets smothered in marinara and perfectly melted mozzarella cheese. For my college roommate who grew up in Jersey, it’s a Big Mac and fries. Her mother never cooked.
Last Wednesday, I was in need of some comfort food. I was assigned a first-person article on a perilous activity—and frankly, it scared the heck out of me. Before I took the plunge, both literally and figuratively, I was told to have a solid meal of something that wouldn’t upset my stomach when in motion. Since I feared that it might be my last meal, I decided to go all-out.
The chefs at Mole Mole at 805 Main Street in Poughkeepsie make what I assume to be Mexican comfort food—and they make it well. Chef/owner Eleazar Ortiz’s small restaurant serves “fresh light Mexican food” to take-out and dine-in customers, though the steady in-and-out foot traffic suggests more of the former than the latter. Nevertheless, there are four small booths surrounded by prints by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo and two stools beneath a string of red chili pepper lights overlooking the grill. A parade of various hot sauces is located by the door, below a yellow star-shaped piñata; small framed artwork and cultural blurbs pepper walls near beverage coolers. For newcomers to Mole Mole, one such message explains its name: “The word ‘mole’ comes from the Aztec word ‘molli’ meaning ‘concoction,’ ‘stew’ or ‘sauce.’ To the unenlightened, mole is a Mexican chocolate sauce. In Mexico, mole is a hundred dishes in a hundred homes.” Green mole with tomatillos, spicy Guajillo pepper mole and red Oaxacan mole are just a few flavors in the Mole Mole repertoire.
The dine-in meal begins with a basket of salted yellow tortilla chips with salsa fresca, chunks of tomato, onion and jalepeno with cilantro, mixed in perfect proportion. For an appetizer, try the empanadas ($3.99/two), fried pockets containing chorizo, potato and Monterrey jack cheese, on a bed of fresh lettuce with sour cream and smoky chipotle dipping sauce. Chorizo is a pork sausage, seasoned with chili and paprika. Mole Mole’s chorizo, specifically, is the key to my repeat business. The savory, peppery ground meat is delicious in tacos and burritos alike, though superlative in empanadas.
Soup selections ($2.99/bowl) include black bean, tortilla soup and a sopa del dia (soup of the day), all excellent choices for a first course. My favorite, however, is the chicken lime soup, served in a generous bowl garnished with a big slice of lime. A twist on traditional chicken soup, this version adds chopped cilantro to a heady gold-hued broth. The citrus adds a satisfying note to an already full bouquet of flavors.
An authentic burrito grande ($6.99/ea.) is more than an enough for a main course. To the flour tortilla stuffed with refried beans, salsa fresca and Monterrey cheese with Ranchera sauce you may add: quesillo (Oaxacan cheese), chicken or ground beef, chipotle chicken, grilled steak, chorizo, al pastor (pineapple-marinated pork loin) or spicy pork (marinated loin in Guajillo pepper sauce). Al pastor is a sweet, tangy alternative to straight-up chicken or ground beef that I would certainly recommend.
Tortas ($5.99/ea.) are basically burrito sandwiches, with the tubular tortilla replaced by two thick slices of Mexican bread. The traditional beans, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, avocados and jalapenos still apply. Asteca, with jamon (sliced ham), chorizo and pollo (chicken), is a not-too-spicy, flavorful choice. Nortena, grilled steak, onions and mushrooms, tastes like the Mexican equivalent of a Philly cheesesteak.
There are also platters to be had, including the excellent “Monterrey” ($9.50), a heap of tender grilled rib eye topped with tomatoes, jalapenos, mustrooms, onion and Monterrey cheese. Served with rice and refried or black beans, corn or flour tortillas, lettuce and salsa fresca, I have yet to see a single person polish one off.
I could not finish my burrito on Wednesday, though it was solely on account of nerves. However, what I did ingest gave me the nutrition and fortitude needed to confront my fearsome assignment later that afternoon. And, wouldn’t you know, it all worked out in the end. I can’t help but think chorizo had something to do with it.
Megan Labrise
(Orig. pub. date: June 6, 2007)
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