Que Chula es Puebla

To a growing band of authentic Mexican taquerias, add a tidy Kensington outpost, with genuine traditional tastes.

May 10, 2009|By Craig LaBan, Inquirer Restaurant Critic
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  • The special Sunday pozole is a dish worth the trip.
  • The special Sunday pozole is a dish worth the trip.
  • The guacamole platter eschews the typical blandness for rustic zest.
  • The flan is a cool, creamy caramel.
  • Owner Delfina Pacio named her restaurant after a popular song about Puebla's beauty.

Can you imagine a diner's life in Philadelphia without our taquerias?

I shudder at the thought. Of course, the notion that we have mole now so genuine that it's fresh off the FedEx truck from Puebla may be odd for a town that not long ago considered the Speedy Gonzales platter at Tex-Mex El Azteca to be the piƱata pinnacle of authentic. But in the span of less than a decade, we've seen Philly evolve a seriously sizzling salsa scene, from its high-end nuevo tequila palaces to a growing collection of humble taquerias that answer virtually every craving for genuine Mexican home cooking.

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This is especially true in the Taco Belt that is the Italian Market, where a rapidly expanding repertoire of no-frills kitchens caters to the authentic crowds of Baja Filadelfia. Not unlike the richly overlapping patchwork of Chinatown's storefront eateries, many of these have similar menus, but each exhibits its own distinctive strengths. There may not be one stellar champ that captures the entire breadth of Mexican cuisine on a single menu. But they are getting there quite nicely as a collective force.

So I no longer have one favorite taqueria but many, with different destinations depending on the dish, whether it's tacos al pastor (Los Taquitos de Puebla), a bowl of green chile pozole (Restaurant Acapulco), or barbacoa tacos and huitlacoche quesadillas pressed between homemade tortillas (La Lupe).

The fact that our latest worthy addition to Philly's taqueria team - Que Chula es Puebla - isn't even close to the Italian Market is only further proof of the pervasive power of our rising Mexi-strength.

Named by charming owner Delfina Pacio after the popular song by Rafael Hernandez, Que Chula es Puebla ("How Beautiful Is Puebla?") stands like a cheery stucco sentry at the corner of Second and Master in lower Kensington, the only building left on an otherwise razed city block that has big ambitions for condo redevelopment. It's a simple and freshly tidied space inside, but nothing special, with serapes on the wall and ranchera music pumping through the room.

Often, though, and especially with traditional ethnic cuisines, that glimmer of something special reveals itself in the most mundane places: here, in the complimentary tortilla chips drizzled with bean dip.

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