Is Tex-Mex a fading cuisine? It sure seems that way in Houston, where it’s getting harder and harder to find the authentic stuff with each passing year. Indeed, judging by the most recent lists of Houston’s top Tex-Mex restaurants, I would say that people have even forgotten what true Tex-Mex is. Patricia Sharpe elucidated the Platonic Tex-Mex Restaurant Ideal at length here, but in the interest of brevity, I will quote a few participants in a recent online symposium I hosted (read: a Facebook chat) on the subject along with some of my own thoughts and favorite definitions. Dave Hickey, the Macarthur “genius grant” art critic and Fort Worth native, expressed it about as succinctly as it can be done when he called it “the absence of f*ing vegetables.”
Most anyone who’s live in Texas for any length of time manages to develop an appreciation for the food there. Lord knows I did. In most cases, this means Tex-Mex, which to most of the uninitiated involves things like fajitas, burritos, refried beans, and enchiladas. The problem with defining a cuisine is that it can and invariably does mean different things to different people. It’s like trying to get people to agree on what “pizza” means and, even more challenging, what constitutes “good” pizza. Some focus on the crust, some on the ingredients, and getting anywhere close to consensus can be like negotiating a resolution to the long-running conflict in the Middle East.
Living in Portland as I do, Tex-Mex is hard to come by, though it can be had. My favorite dispensary of Tex-Mex goodness, Esparza’s, closed a couple years ago. While the restaurant that replaced it is good, it hasn’t grasped that Tex-Mex with a Pacific Northwest twist, while certainly interesting and tasty, ain’t Tex-Mex.
Clay Wisner speaks truth when he says, “When everything seems to be the same 4 or 5 ingredients rearranged, that’s Tex-Mex. If there’s actual variety on the menu, I consider that Mexican.”
Also speaking truth: Alese Pickering, who remembers that you all true Tex-Mex waiters will warn you “hotplate-hotplate,” and as a kid, you will fail to heed that warning over and over again. Andrea Greer picks up on the minimalist menu options: “The enchiladas can have cheese, ground beef, stringy chicken from questionable parts of the bird. They cannot have crab, lobster, or baby squash.”
The author of the Texas Monthly piece posits his opinion that Tex-Mex is in slow, but steady and inexorable, decline. I suspect that in this case, “decline” is in the eye of the beholder, as is the question of where in Texas the best Tex-Mex can be found: Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, or (my personal favorite) Austin. I suspect a Texan’s opinion on this question will depend on what zip code they call home.
In order to be able to intelligently discuss if Tex-Mex is indeed on the decline, one must be understand what Tex-Mex is (Hint: It ain’t Taco Bell). Albert Nurick, a Houston food writer, offers what seems to me a pretty decent working definition:
Tex-Mex is the cuisine of Texas, not Mexico. It is blissfully inauthentic ‘Mexican’ food. Ground beef tacos, enchiladas (beef or some sort of horrible, lab-created cheese) and pork tamales. These aren’t the lovingly crafted versions you’ll find at Hugo’s, but more the down-home renditions that use inexpensive ingredients combined masterfully.
Chips and salsa before the meal, and they must be complementary. Combination plates must be on the menu.
Fajitas are a modern affectation that are tolerated, but shouldn’t be encouraged. Margaritas are de rigueur, and (you’ll see a pattern) the looked-down-upon frozen version is an acceptable option.
Even with this definition, though, there’s room for interpretation, because complimentary chips and salsa is a relatively recent- and not always universally appreciated- addition to the Tex-Mex concept. The same holds true for frozen margaritas (and, really, what self-respecting Texan- real, former, or wannabe- orders a frozen margarita?)
The places I remember from Houston- Cafe Adobe, Ninfa’s, Molina’s (my personal favorite)- all tried to keep things pretty basic. A good rule of thumb, at least in Texas, is that if you’re paying $30 for your entree, you may be eating something truly wonderful…but it’s a virtual certainty it’s not Tex-Mex.
Here in Portland, the idea of Tex-Mex too often gets caught up with a chef wanting to make a name for him- or herself. Instead of keeping things basic, diners are subjected to some sort of culinary twist which, while usually quite tasty, turns Tex-Mex into something altogether different.
I may not miss much about Texas, but I’ll freely admit to missing Tex-Mex. There are only two options here in Portland, and while both are good in their own way, it’s not quite the real thing…and like most folks who live or have lived in Texas, when you want Tex-Mex, I’d love to find the real thing.
Ah, well…at least there’s one really fantastic barbecue place in town…and it’s only three miles from home.
