There is a song called “Loquito por ti” by the Columbian cumbia singer Armando Hernández that I spent most of the summer listening to. The album cover on a YouTube video I have loaded countless times depicts Armando in a suave – and tight – grey suit, digitally glowing while looking proudly ahead. His fine figure stands before a mainly blue background, a sweet pixelated rendition of a tropical beach complete with vaguely defined boats and clouds.
His strong hand has been made to look as though it is resting comfortably on the digitally superimposed figure of his own name, in bold capitals and a lime green that could have been a contender for the purposefully nasty colour of cigarette packets. The cover both does and doesn’t accurately represent the content of the song it promotes. It is brash and tacky, and hints at the richness and joy for life that the song exudes, but not quite the true deliciousness of “Loquito por ti”, which you can only understand after hearing it.
Something similar could be said for the food at El Grito on Mountjoy Sq. The restaurant, which moved from its teeny beginnings in Temple Bar last year, is a very busy and colourful place. TVs adorn the wall, marketing unholy combinations of red wine and energy drinks or showing telenovelas and old Mexican films. The crowd is young, mostly Spanish-speaking and warm. There are appealing flashes of colour upstairs and in the covered yard of the Georgian basement that houses it. The menu is not a beautiful thing, but everything on it is cheap and much of it is exceptionally tasty. Like “Loquito por ti”, the food served here is infectiously joyful.
Tacos are essential, but also highly commended are the tortas (a rich Mexican sandwich), gringas (grilled tortilla), quesadillas and the old Dublin favourite, burritos.
We started by sharing some tacos (€2.50 each). There were some clear winners and losers. The chicharron was too gelatinous and the fried fish was simply unremarkable, with a texture and taste not far away from a McDonald’s fillet o’ fish. However, the other tacos we had entirely won us over. The barbacoa (slow cooked beef) was reliably delicious and the pastor (pork topped with onion and coriander) provided classic strong Mexican flavour. A surprise knockout came in the form of the hibiscus taco, which is an appealing red and packs a complex and interesting punch.
This offers a reason for vegetarians to celebrate in an otherwise meat-heavy establishment, as do the abundant guacamole (€1.20) and totopos (tortilla chips, €3). The right hot sauce to top your tacos of course is all down to personal preference, but my favourite was the chimichurri – a mix of mayonnaise, garlic and a particularly hot and enduring habanero.
To drink I had the very sweet horchata (€2), a kind of rice water deliciously dusted with cinnamon, which somehow evoked a powerful nostalgia for an alternative life I had growing up as a carefree child in Mexico, coming home after a long hot afternoon playing football to suck up glassful after glassful through brightly coloured plastic straws. The decidedly more suspect calimocho (€6) ordered by my guest, a combination of red wine and coke in a large glass with ice, apparently got much nicer as more of it was sipped away. Other interesting drinks available include the savoury beer infusion Michelada – Corona beer with Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, lime juice and Maggi sauce (€6).
Alongside our tacos we had some Mexican potatoes with chorizo and cheese, which also came with hot four-inch tortillas (€9). The result is an indulgent and carb-heavy cousin of a taco, which arrived looking a little bit rubbery and forlorn but was delicious nonetheless.
Dessert is probably best dodged, with a limited offering. However, it is unlikely that you will need it after the generous portion size of everything else available.
This character-filled spot up on Mountjoy Sq definitely deserves a visit. It is cheap, certainly cheerful, and very hard to beat.
