Authentic Mexican Cuisine : Freshly Made Tortillas Are Just the Beginning

The canned mariachi music that sometimes blares from the loudspeakers at Bonita’s new La Mansion never quite succeeds in drowning out a soft, slapping sound that periodically issues from this attractive restaurant’s kitchen.

The sound--a cheerful pat, pat, pat, rather like the noise made by a chubby infant clapping his hands in delight--is at first difficult to identify. But a glance into a small anteroom that abuts the kitchen reveals the source of this sound to be two women, busy at work patting balls of dough into tortillas. With a quick back-and-forth motion, just as if they were juggling hot potatoes, the women pass the dough from one hand to the other, a process that gradually smoothes the doughballs into perfect orbs that can then be rolled into neat circles. When needed, these flat breads are slapped on a comal (a sheet-metal grill) and toasted on both sides until flecked with brown spots.

This appetizing sound should be music to the ears of anyone who loves good food. The tortillas themselves--orchestrated into a harmony of taste sensations with such accents as spicy salsas and savory fillings--can create a symphony in the mouth. Napkin-lined straw baskets of both corn and flour tortillas, always fresh from the comal, appear early in the meal and are replenished as needed.

The tortillas cannot be taken as La Mansion’s most monumental achievement, but it is nice to discover that the most fundamental element of Mexican cuisine here is treated with the respect it deserves (many restaurants toss frozen, precooked discs of dough into a microwave.) La Mansion seems to make a real effort with almost everything it prepares, and although it has its failings, the cooking generally is quite pleasing. The menu offers a superior selection of Mexican home-style dishes, while eschewing the sloppy “combination plates” that are the norm at San Diego’s typical taco palaces.

This also is one of the county’s most attractive Mexican restaurants. The bright colors and gaudy trappings that one often encounters at such restaurants are indeed employed here, but in a tasteful manner that goes easy on the eyes. Tables are set with green and pink linens, and planters filled with silk flowers; the floor level is stepped so as to create several intimate dining areas out of one large room. The service tends to be more professional than is generally the case at casual restaurants.

The meal starts with the usual corn tortilla chips (hot and crisp) served with a trio of excellent homemade salsas that also can be used to spice other dishes. The salsas range from a mild cruda of chopped onions, tomatoes and cilantro, to a crimson number that can make one’s ears quiver (a waiter said that a fourth salsa is kept on hand in the kitchen for the delectation of people accustomed to breathing fire). In between is a delightful salsa albanil, a mildly spicy preparation based on tomatillos, the tiny green tomatoes that play such an important role in Mexican cooking.

This salsa albanil can be ordered in bulk, as the basis of a most unusual appetizer. Served attractively in a metal pot cast to resemble a rather introspective bull, the salsa is garnished with wedges of avocado and spears of jack cheese, which guests may either dunk in the sauce, or roll inside tortillas. Either way, the dish makes a flavorful and refreshing snack.

The appetizer list also offers a first-rate version of choriqueso (a puddle of molten cheese topped with crumbled chorizo sausage), as well as such standards as ceviche and nachitos. The most interesting starter course of all may be the camarones rasurados, or shrimp marinated in a liquid that contains a powerful splash of “shrimp boil,” a commercial flavoring preparation that is usually added by the teaspoon to the water in which shellfish is to be cooked. It has a strong but delightful flavor, and as used at La Mansion, it produces a shrimp with character. Chopped avocado and onion garnish the serving, and add their own flavors to the whole.

The entree lists manage to cover two entire pages without touching too heavily on the cliches that clutter most of the area’s Mexican menus. The antojitos (this word can be taken to mean “foods which one craves”) section includes such typical home-style preparations as molletes, or lengths of toasted bollilo bread spread with beans and cheese, and pozole (served on weekends only), a dish of hominy cooked in chicken broth, garnished with shredded chicken and condiments.

One of the better selections under the antojitos heading is the enchiladas Morelianas, which includes a trio of cheese-stuffed corn tortillas buried beneath a rich brown sauce concocted from three different types of chile peppers. Cubes of crisply fried potato are spread directly over the sauce; their mild flavor underscores the subtle heat of the sauce, while their crisp exteriors lend texture interest to the dish.

Among the more formal entrees, the medallones de filete en chipotle stands out; three slices of beef filet repose in a thick, velvety red sauce that reveals its heat gradually, so that by the end of the meal the diner may be flushed and perspiring, and yet smiling through his tears. It is a superb dish, thanks primarily to the depth and complexity of this excellent sauce.

A chicken in mole sauce, which is one of the most classic of Mexican dishes, was far less satisfactory.

The sauce that coated the fish a la Veracruz, on the other hand, was a miracle of lightness. It included green olives (not the nasty, flavorless black ones that are canned in this state), capers, and whole, mild chile peppers, a list of ingredients that lent an impressive flavor to the otherwise ordinary filet of fish that formed the basis of this dish.

No sauce at all garnished the carne asada, or broiled, marinated steak, a fact that somewhat displeased the guest who ordered it. The meat, cooked well-done in the unvarying style of this dish, was garnished instead with strips of serrano chiles, guacamole, an enchilada filled with shredded chicken in mole, and frijoles refritos that had a canned consistency but a fairly good flavor.

Although La Mansion’s dessert list is longer than some, it is also the least satisfying section of the menu. The crepas de cajeta, or flour tortillas drenched with a rich caramel sauce and sprinkled with chopped nuts, are most agreeable. But the flan de queso tastes just like sweetened cream cheese (and is remarkably heavy), and the “Mexican-style” cheesecake actually tastes rather bad, a comment that rarely can be made about a dessert.

The best end to a meal here may be simply a cup of the excellent espresso, spiked with the tiny twist of lime that garnishes the cup.

La Mansion.

4062 Bonita Road, Bonita.

475-6322.

Meals served seven days, 10 a.m. to 11 p.m.

Credit cards accepted.

Dinner for two, with a glass of house wine each, tax and tip, should cost from $20 to $40.