Petaluma’s Quiote offers inspired Mexican cuisine

The other day, I came across a Taco Bell menu from 1972. (A longtime friend and I share vintage menus we find — weird, maybe, but it’s a thing we enjoy.)

This colorful creation was a bit of history, listing “exotic” items along with descriptions and a pronunciation guide.

“Taco — (tah-co),” it read. “Crisp folded corn tortilla with quality ground beef, garden fresh lettuce, shredded cheese, Taco Bell’s famous sauce.”

“Burrito (buh-ree-toh),” it prompted. “Tostada (toh-stah-dah). Frijoles (fre-ho-les).”

I thought about how far we’ve come as I studied the menu at the new Quiote in downtown Petaluma. There’s some true exotica here — I stumbled slightly trying to say “sincronizadas,” a dish I hadn’t seen before, even as I have traveled large swaths of Mexico.

OK, maybe it’s not so much exotic as it is novel.

“Sincronizadas are actually all over Mexico,” Quiote chef/co-owner Julio Ortiz explained. “Essentially, it’s just a ham and cheese quesadilla. But from our area, we roll them up and fry them in butter. Butter always makes everything better.”

Julio, 31, is a Petaluma native. But his parents came from Jalisco, Mexico, so the Quiote menu offers regional touches from that western state and spanning into Mexico City and Oaxaca to the south and over to the Mayan region.

Those crisp-edged quesadillas, for example, come dressed in chiltomate, a traditional salsa from the Yucatán with tomatoes, habaneros and onions that are usually roasted and simmered for a slight smokiness. Dollops of salsa de aquacate (avocado-lime salsa), crème fraîche and queso fresco finish the dish and help tame the chile heat ($10.25).

At the tidy, tiny Kentucky Street restaurant, the Ortiz family works together, including Julio’s father, Jorge; mother Gloria; and older brother, also named Jorge. This restaurant has been a long time coming, Julio said. Gloria previously operated another Petaluma eatery owned by his aunt, and Julio spent many summers doing prep and server work there.

“My aunt’s restaurant was the same kind of Mexican food that's everywhere, so we wanted to bring something different,” he said. “We wanted to share a little piece of our home, and our culture.”

That’s why, among countless traditional mole recipes found across Mexico, Julio makes his family favorite, mole estilo Jalisco.

The inky dark concoction looks like chocolate, but it’s just chiles, onions, raisins, spices and the secret ingredient — crushed animal crackers — to add a sweet back note to the sauce and thicken it. Then the excellent mole is lavished atop a trio of braised chicken enchiladas and scattered with shaved Little Gem lettuce, radish, queso fresco and a tart pickled salsa ($15.25). I wasn’t too proud to lick my spoon for every last bit of sauce.

In a classy touch for a casual cafe, the enchiladas are crafted with blue corn tortillas, as are the soft tacos and puffy sopes. They’re made with masa harina from Masienda, a company that works with small, family-owned farms across Mexico growing heirloom crops that showcase the nutty-sweet flavor of premium corn.

Eventually, Julio plans to grind his masa. But for now, he rolls and shapes his tortillas by hand. Then they’re stuffed with taco fillings like guajillo-marinated short rib ($5.50), chipotle-marinated chicken breast ($5.25) and chorizo moistened with chiltomate ($5.50).

The cochinita pibil taco is particularly wonderful, overstuffed with at least double the meat of most tacos. The citrus-achiote-marinated pork shoulder is thick and chewy-tender, and spiked with serious habanero power and a touch of the orange oiliness I love ($5.50).

Julio has taught me another new word: raspadas.

“It’s another Jalisco thing,” he said. “It means scraped tostadas, and you put the masa on a metate — a rectangular stone with a big stone rolling pin. Then the tortilla comes fresh off the comal (griddle), and you scrape off the top layer so it’s really, really thin. And then you fry it, so it’s crackly-crispy.”

Here, the white corn disk is smothered with slippery queso panela chunks, shaved onion, cabbage, tomato, queso fresco and tangy Jalisco-style “salsa de Gloria” of tomatoes, tomatillos, dried oregano and a splash of orange juice. Lacing it all together is a swath of Oaxacan bean puree ($8.25).

Whatever you order, get a side of the beans. The Ortizes partner with Napa’s beloved Rancho Gordo, which gives them access to heirloom beans like textured, giant white ayocote, which are tucked into the carne asada taco ($5.75). The family participates in the Xococ Project, which sources heritage beans directly from independent farmers in Mexico. You’ve rarely had pinto beans as good as the Rancho Gordo selection, so tender and creamy and here, served in their own rich cooking broth ($4.50).

Also get a side of arroz verde. The bright green rice is simmered with cilantro and poblano chiles ($4.50). For extra impact, try it alongside the sope hongos of juicy sauteed mushrooms layered with bean puree and chiltomate ($6.25).

“You do a really hard sear on one side of the mushrooms, and you take them out and add onions, garlic and tomatoes,” Julio said. “The tomatoes are the trick because you have to cut them really, really fine so they get a chance to break down for you. It gives more flavor, and it makes it all a little bit more saucy.”

For another dish, the family looks to Guadalajara. The torta ahogada is a mess to behold but undeniably delicious. A bolillo roll is packed with garlic-roasted pork loin, bean puree, savoy cabbage and lime-cured onion. It’s then “drowned” in salsa de arbol ($12.50). You can drown yourself, if you choose, in a Pacifico Beer or a glass of Finca El Origen Reserva Torrontés from Salta, Argentina.

The Ortizes want to share some more culture, betting that there’s an audience for Petaluma’s breakfast crowd. They are testing a turnocturno takeout menu from 11:30 p.m. to 2 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays (and presenting me with another new word I’ve just learned).

Turnocturno is Spanish for “night shift.” The idea is to feed restaurant industry people working late hours and revelers departing Petaluma’s burgeoning nightlife scene.

“We’re still a young business, so we’re figuring out what to do,” Julio said. “We’re really just trying things out, hoping to keep things interesting and share our traditions.”

Carey Sweet is a Sebastopol-based food and restaurant writer. Read her restaurant reviews every other week in Sonoma Life. Contact her at carey@careysweet.com.