Posole goes mainstream
By Tom Maicon at March 10, 2009 | 4:12 pm | Print
Posole (also spelled pozole) is a traditional Mexican soup from the pacific coast region of Jalisco in west-central Mexico. True authentic offerings are made with pig’s head and cheap scraps — the ears are thought by many to be a fight-worthy delicacy. The broth is judiciously laced with carefully prepared chilies, fresh garlic and oregano, which lends an earthy, slightly bitter, aromatic depth.
Finding a bowl of posole here in Atlanta is no easy task, authentic or not. Even the abundance of authentic taquerias we’re blessed with choose to leave it off the standard everyday menu. Though some do occasionally slip it in as a weekend special.
Weirdly, this soulful Mexican soup can be found on the everyday menus at four American-friendly neighborhood restaurants — from edgy Cabbagetown to suburban Alpharetta. Don’t expect a pig’s head to emerge from the murky broth at these places, nor need you be prepared to fight over the ears. The places mentioned below wisely substitute tenderloin or shoulder meat so not to scare off the more polished — or, squeamish — American clientele that makes up the bulk of their business.
Agave (242 Boulevard, Cabbagetown, Tel: 404.588.0006)
While you won’t have to muster up the courage to consume odd pig parts, you will have to prepare yourself for a biting sting when putting your lips to Jack Sobel’s Southwestern take of this down home Mexican dish.
“It’s a great seller for us,” claims managing partner Tim Pinkham, after being asked if many people order it.
“It’s a simple version,” continues Pinkham. “Nothing fancy about it, just fresh, well-executed ingredients.”
I enjoy it for its distinct lucid heat that doesn’t overwhelm, but instead successfully straddles that fine line between a lively, flavorful bite and a spoonful of napalm.
Pozole (1044 Greenwood Ave., Virginia Highland, Tel: 404.892.0552)
Located in the heart of Virginia Highland directly across from Panita, this little eatery billed itself as a Nuevo Latino restaurant at conception. The food coming out of the kitchen was unique and mostly delicious, but the pozole struggled like a lost leader whose name proudly hung over the door.
Today, the menu reads more like that of a Mexican restaurant with a few Nuevo Latino accents. And along with the changes arrived a “born again” pozole featuring a rich, soul-soothing red broth spiced with a skilled hand. Chock-full of hominy and stewed pork, this version is served with a side of finely diced red onions, slivers of creamy, ripe avocado and a wedge of lime.
Pure Taqueria (103 Roswell St., Alpharetta, Tel: 678.240.0023)
Chris Sedgwick jetted off to Mexico for a little getaway and returned bearing recipes and flavor profiles for this Mexican concept that promises suburbanites a taste of Mexico without leaving Alpharetta.
The posole served here is called posole verde, which arrives a thin, greenish broth rife with cilantro, onions and pork drippings. It’s topped with shredded cabbage and paper-thin slices of radish.
This giant bowl of heady goodness is one of the best dishes in the house and worthy of a trip from anywhere in the city, especially for those who just happen to have a hankerin’ for posole verde. I admittedly feel the need to scratch that itch every once in a while.
Bone Garden Cantina (1425 Ellsworth Industrial #6, Westside, Tel: 404.418.9072)
Bone Garden Cantina arrived on the scene last summer with attitude. It is after all, owned by the same couple that owns The Vortex where major attitude is the foremost ingredient for success.
Problem is, at some point the whole attitude thing becomes tired and I just want something that tastes good. And that just doesn’t happen at Bone Garden Cantina. The menu has promise offering authentic sounding dishes, but mostly leaves me scratching my head.
The posole offered here is chicken posole blanco. The flavor profile varies from visit to visit. During one attempt, it tasted like my grandmother’s intentionally tamed chicken noodle soup, minus the noodles and flavor. A second attempt rewarded me with a face-wincing overdose of oregano. Not once in four visits was I served a posole worth hanging my hat on.
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