At Mesero Miguel, Great Plates Lost in the Crowd

Mico Rodriguez's latest tries to do too many things to communicate any of them well.

Not long after walking into Mesero Miguel, you may start to wonder whether the restaurants that failed in this two-story space could have made it if they simply looked this good. Cuba Libre put in a solid 10-year run on the highly visible corner of Willis and Henderson avenues, but in 2011 the owners thought it was time for a renovation. Their new restaurant, Alma, dressed in drab wood tones, opened and closed in the same year. Lemon Bar, which changed little before it moved into the building from the nearby West Village, lasted about as long.

That's when Mico Rodriguez, who helped found but flamed out of the group that started Mi Cocina, announced that he'd have a go at the space, as a follow-up to his two-year-old Mr. Mesero. He dressed the building top to bottom in an urban coastal style he called 1960s Palm Springs, and if weekend nights are an indicator, he's injected enough life into the space to break the building's slump.

The sleek, small waiting area, with its white walls and fixtures, could double as an entrance to a modern art gallery if it weren't packed with hungry customers waiting on a table. At the bar they linger two deep, hoping a margarita will take the edge off their wait. Upstairs, at a second bar that's backed in a dense forest of rough hewn lumber, it's more of the same — most of them standing, four-inch heels propping up every other pair of feet.

The world’s most complicated nachos.
Catherine Downes
The world’s most complicated nachos.


Mesero Miguel

2822 North Henderson Ave., 214-821-6426, 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Sunday-Wednesday, 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Thursday-Saturday. $$$

Duck confit tacos $13

Braised pork $16

Nachos $10.95

Mexican combo $12

Guacamole $10

Maybe the dining room uses its own aesthetic sensibility to channel good-looking people. The old bar that once ran along the back of the main room has been turned into an open kitchen, and the space has been painted from a palette of creams and whites. In the early evening, the tables topped in an angular juxtaposition of dark gray and white echo the sunlight and shadows that cut through the dining room. And when the weather is agreeable an entire wall of sliding windows disappears. You can't tell where the patio ends and the dining room begins when the glass is pulled back, but you'll be happy to be sitting wherever you are.

It's a polished space to show off some seriously refined nachos, which arrive with more fanfare than any cheese-covered chips in history. Nacho service for two requires no less than four plates, a pair of tongs and so much careful placement you will think an artist's assistant is putting the finishing touches on an edible installation — a chip here, a little cabbage there, all of it just so. But the nachos deliver in layers of beans, cheese and tender brisket baked together and topped with cubes of avocado and slivers of red chiles. Finish them off bite by bite with a little lightly dressed cabbage for a cooling crunch, and lament that so many bars have such a hard time getting this snack right.

There is a lot of pampering and spooning at Mesero Miguel. You may notice another waiter tenderly serving queso from a bowl onto small plates that have been adorned with two chips, placed carefully with tongs, one at a time. The same act accompanies the arrival of an order of guacamole. It's not hard to imagine the day when melted cheese is spooned directly onto your quivering lower lip by Rodriguez himself, but while at times the service seems a little much, it's nice to eat in a dining room that for the most part is filled with a warm and well-trained staff.

If only the queso itself were so endearing. This version makes use of processed cheese, hearts of palm, spinach and poblano chiles, and resembles a T.G.I. Friday's appetizer more than a bowl of molten dairy appropriate for a modern Mexican restaurant. The chunky guacamole is a more fitting way to start your meal, as are the gratis chips that come with a rotating cast of salsas. Simple tomato salsas, tomatillo salsas, chile salsas, roasted-chile salsas — they arrive three at a time in small porcelain bowls along with a small tumbler of sturdy and crunchy chips.

If you've come for Tex-Mex, the chips are a harbinger of a menu that's filled with brisket tacos with melted cheese, chicken enchiladas with salsa verde, cheese enchiladas with meat sauce and other familiar items grouped together on the menu to let you pick any two for $12.

Don't let the cost fool you. Rodriguez makes it back on $12 margaritas and other plates that can reach as high as $47 for a prime NY strip steak, and run the gamut from a diver scallop and pineapple ceviche to an odd riff on pork fried rice.

While Chinese and Mexican fusion restaurants have cropped up in recent years, the dish is a one-off — an odd mismatch of ingredients that you'll recognize elsewhere on the menu, heaped in a massive bowl and topped with a fried egg. Morsels of pork, shrimp and mushrooms make for a fried rice dish that is better than those served at many Chinese restaurants, but it's a distraction here.

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