Lincoln Heights—Worlds collide on Pasadena Avenue in Lincoln Heights. On one side of the street is a modernist apartment complex and a video production facility. On the other side is a row of old homes dating back deep into the last century, with well-tended gardens in front, and a sense of age rare in a city where the past is regarded as an inconvenience.
And in the midst of our past sits Carnes Asadas Pancho Lopez – not so much a restaurant as it is a tribute to its chef’s roots. To step through the door is to leave our land of high speed and enter a realm of freshly made salsas and tortillas, of birria and chorizo. This may be the most Mexican restaurant in our deeply Latino city. Where few, if any, take you on a journey like Pancho Lopez.
It’s painted with the sort of matte finish not often found North of the Border, featuring a statue of mustachioed Pancho in a sombrero, serape and huaraches. You climb a flight of stairs into an inner room with murals on the walls, and a patio with a mini jungle growing behind it. This is Senor Lopez’s homage to his hometown of Jalisco – the look, flavor and feel of his life, transported to a street not far from the 5 Freeway.
Chips arrive quickly, crisp as could be, with two bottles of salsa, a red and a green. The guacamole is a wonder and a joy – even in a city where guac is ubiquitous, that first taste explodes with the essence of avocado. The guac is served in a heart-shaped bowl, both chico and grande. It vanishes fast. No alcohol is offered. But the agua fresca is just right – horchata (rice, cinnamon and sugar), jamaica (hibiscus) and horchata con fresa (strawberries).
The dishes come in a basket with a plastic bottom. The queso fundido is so much more than a plate of melted cheese – the cheese has a sharp edge, baked till it’s crisp, with chorizo or steak, cactus salad, refried beans and grilled onions. The closest Pancho Lopez comes to soup is the birria en consommé – long-cooked beef in a deep, dark broth, the meat beginning to break down into its constituent molecules.
But it was the tacos that called to me. The crunchy tacos filled with shredded beef and served with a bowl of broth for dipping. The soft tacos with birria, cilantro and onions. The potato and bean tacos, with cabbage, with or without beef. The quesadilla a mano is “made at the moment with natural dough.” There’s a sandwich of salty bolillo rolls filled with carne barbacoa, tomato, onions and avocado…