Mexicali Grille

by Sophie Loghman

It’s that time of the month again. I’m bloated, but don’t care; I have stomach cramps with a side of a pounding headache, and to top it all off-- I’m craving a burrito. I am also quite tired of the usual Mexican restaurants in the area –you know, like Taqueria, and La Parrilla, and Agua Linda—so I decide to try something new. I remembered seeing signs about the reopening of a Mexican restaurant somewhere on West Broad Street, so I hop in my car, drive all but five minutes from my apartment and turn left into a crammed parking lot.

“Welcome to Mexicali Grille,” coos one of the softly spoken hostesses, who I have to say, slightly resembles a taller (and more plump) version of Mila Kunis.

This restaurant looks bland. All I really notice are the ever-so-typical Mexican flags, a few sombreros and some pieces of Mexican cloth hanging around its yellow walls.

But the menu! Here I am holding a menu with a profusion of Mexican dishes that all cost under only $12. I see burritos and enchiladas and queso and even chalupas. But wait-- what’s a chalupa? I think I’ve heard of it on a Taco Bell commercial, but never have I actually thought about its ingredients. I look over to the left side of the menu and see that Mexicali has graciously put a description of its dishes. How very convenient. I read that a chalupa is a tostada platter in Mexican cuisine, filled with lettuce, onions, salsa, chicken, beans and tortillas. Kind of like a taco salad and a burrito mixed in one—but I think I’ll pass.

After careful examination and a handful of impeccably salty chips and salsa (which is complimentary with every meal, I might add), I tell my grinning waiter that I’d like a cheese dip to start things off. He tells me for just one dollar I can upgrade to a size large cheese dip and I think, “What the hell? Bring it on.”

He’s right. The cheese IS pretty big. But can it beat Taqueria’s?

Unfortunately, it can’t.

The cheese was too unattractively thin. I couldn’t even keep it on my chips without making a huge mess of gooey white cheese on the table. And where are the jalapeños for flavor? Suddenly, my headache gets a little worse.

My burrito supreme comes out next. It wasn’t the kind of the burrito I’m used to. The lettuce, the cheese, the tomatoes, and the sour cream are all on the outside of the tortilla. What kind of Mexican restaurant is this?!

I see the two owners sitting at a nearby table doing what looks to be taxes. I crinkle my eyebrows and give them a my infamous evil eye.

As I bite into my burrito next, the waiter returns with some more salsa and chips, which is refreshing that he noticed that I was on a chip-frenzy and needed more at that very moment. What can I say? The service is excellent here.

My burrito tastes a little plain. I can’t complain, but it’s definitely not an authentic straight-from-Mexico tasting burrito.

I ask my waiter to bring me a Passion Fruit Margarita to calm my throbbing headache.

I take a substantial slurp and MMMMMMM. That is by far the best margarita I’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet and not too alcoholic—I have to drink some more.

My fruity mixed beverage went unexpectedly well with my basic-tasting burrito. It wasn’t bad, but I wouldn’t call it anything past mediocre.

My description of the burrito is exactly how I would describe the restaurant. I would definitely choose somewhere else for authentic Mexican food, but this is still pleasant place to hang out, share some margaritas and down some perfectly plain Mexican food.

It’s probably not the place to bring your parents the weekend they come up, but if you’re looking for a cheap meal—which, let’s be real, everyone is in this economy—come here before your next pregame downtown.