If I had a dime for every time I've passed a Tex-Mex joint on my way to work, I'd have $5,304.20.* My travels throughout the Alamo City have led me to innumerable Tex-Mex joints, some well known, some a little off the beaten path, and a few so obscure I wondered if I had unknowingly invited myself into a "casa de la abuela." Like most popular things, though, ubiquity often leads to complacency and mediocrity. As I pen this review, I struggle to count more than four outstanding Tex-Mex joints in the greater San Antonio area. Rita's Mexican Cocina is the very definition of run-of-the-mill Tex-Mex: heaping portions, cliched food, and several telltale signs of a kitchen cutting corners.
Flour tortillas are a reliable litmus test for any Mexican restaurant. If the kitchen can execute a respectable tortilla -- one containing the holy quintet of ingredients, namely Sonoran wheat flour, warm water, lard, baking powder, and salt -- then dinner is off to a promising start. On my first visit to Rita's, my waitress assured me that the flour tortillas were made in house. Although undoubtedly homemade, the chalky, barely pliable frisbees that accompanied my Bandera Plate were a letdown. Their stiff texture pointed to an instant mix or all-purpose flour. No bueno!
Guacamole is so inexpensive and easy to make from scratch that I wonder why so many restaurants rely on premade stuff. Perhaps someone behind the scenes at Rita's can explain, because the dollop of watery neon-green gloop served here is definitely not homemade. I might have been duped by its brightness (a squeeze of citrus can retard oxidation in fresh guacamole), but the unctuous, whipped texture was indicative of science-lab thickening agents such as guar gum or xantham gum. No bueno!
The core components of my Bandera Plate -- namely one crispy beef taco, one beef puffy taco, and one beef enchilada -- were serviceable but average. Each component bore the same cumin-heavy, Tex-Mex-style picadillo meat (a plethora of picadillo...a picadillo profusion), but at least the beef/tomato/onion/cubed potato mixture was savory and satisfying. Several Yelpers have praised the refried beans that accompany every plate, but the allure of pasty, underseasoned mashed pintos eludes me.
The most egregious offender at Rita's is unequivocally the taco norteno, an ironic celebration of the kitchen's worst offenders. A "toasted" (the kitchen's euphemistic parlance for "hard as a hockey puck") flour tortilla forms the base of a taco topped with a spoonful of gristly carne asada, a sprinkle of processed white cheese, and a dollop of the aforementioned glow-in-the-dark guacamole. I haven't a drop of Mexican blood in my body**, but I'm sure I could make a much better taco than this abomination.
On a positive note, the servers are attentive and the restaurant appears to be clean. I considered adding an extra star for these reasons alone, but I just can't justify awarding Rita's Mexican Cocina a three-star "A-ok" rating. Sadly, by San Antonio's standards, Rita's is indeed "A-ok." The fact that I've dined here on three occasions proves that I'm part of the problem; I've eaten so much boring Tex-Mex over the years that I've become inured to its mediocrity. The time has come, however, for us to raise our expectations. A tourist on the Riverwalk might be content with a plate of greasy tacos or a side salad of wilted iceberg topped with store-bought guacamole, but we locals should demand better.
____________________________________________
*I arrived at that dollar amount by using this simple equation:
Years worked
X
Days worked per year
X
Tex-Mex restaurants counted
Neurodiversity comes in handy sometimes.
____________________________________________
**At the moment. I've already digested and expelled the blood from my most recent victim. read more