The Tamale Place

This is a new-ish restaurant out on the far west side, and I have heard and read nothing but good things about it since they opened their doors. Unfortunately, the far west side is one of those places we just don’t get to very often, especially just to get something to eat. As luck would have it, though—I guess—one of Amy’s friends from church was getting married today, and we were invited to the wedding. The wedding was at Harmony Baptist Church, which is straight out 36 until you get to the part of Avon that isn’t booming yet—meaning the restaurant would be between our house and our destination.

A sign posted just inside the front door says that The Tamale Place is not fast food—but rather, great food, pretty darn quickly. (I may not have that exactly right, but it’s something to that effect; and it made me think of the episode of Seinfeld when Jerry’s friend gets fired from his job and winds up working at the Kenny Rogers Roasters, where “it’s not fast food, it’s good food quickly.”) As you step up to the counter, you see a dry erase board hanging on the wall to your right. They don’t always have every tamale that’s listed on the menu, so the board lets you know which ones are still available. It also tells you how many of each are left.

I had checked out the menu on the magic internets this morning, so I already had an idea in my head of what I wanted to try—before we got there and discovered that it’s a little bit like Yats, in that you don’t really know what your choices are until you step inside. At Yats, though, you’re stuck with what’s on the chalkboard; but at The Tamale Place, you also have the choice of tacos, tortas, and nachos—all of which are made to order. (The tamales are made ahead of time in big batches, which is why they only have a finite number each day.) That made it quite a bit easier not to be annoyed that they did not have the poblano chiles and cheese in green sauce tamale that had called out to me from the internet menu this morning.

The tamales are broken down into mild, spicy, no meat, and sweet groupings, with as many as 5-9 flavors potentially available in each group. I tried a spicy chipotle chicken and a Cuban (pork and chorizo), as well as a chorizo taco. Amy got a chicken in green sauce tamale and two steak tacos. For Jackson, we asked if they could make a quesadilla, and they said the best they could do was a cheese taco, because they did not have the grill (or whatever) that you need to make an actual quesadilla—but they didn’t bat an eye at the special request, which was nice. Most of the tamales are $3.25, with a few exceptions in the savory categories (including the Cuban, which was $0.99); and the sweet tamales are $1.75. Tacos are $2.50, or three for $7.25.

I was underwhelmed by the tamales. The spicy chipotle chicken had a little bit of a kick, and some chicken, but I didn’t detect much in the way of chipotle flavor. The Cuban was a short, thin little thing that had some kind of filling, but it could have been just about anything. The spicy chipotle chicken tamale was the standard size, which, here, is bigger than the usual tamale. The story goes that when the owner and her husband were starting out, before it was a full-fledged restaurant, they made the tamales big because they didn’t know they weren’t supposed to be that size. It seems to be working for them. There was a steady stream of new customers the whole time we were there. I’m hoping that some more of the meatless options will be available the next time we pop in.

But even if there aren’t many vegetarian options next time, there will still be the tacos—and that will be just fine. $2.50 probably seems high for a taco, but like the tamales, these things are hefty. They also make them in authentic Mexican fashion, in soft corn tortillas, dressed only with cilantro and onions; and you get a cup of salsa on the side (mild or hot), and a lime wedge. The chorizo taco I had was piping hot, practically overflowing with chorizo, melted cheese, and the aforementioned cilantro and onions. Jackson’s was so hot that he was afraid to touch it until we were almost done eating—and that meant that I got to have a few bites of it, and that thing was closer to a cheese bomb than it was to a taco. But it was excellent.

We also got chips and salsa for Jackson, and the leftover salsa came home with us. It was the freshest, most delicious restaurant salsa I’ve had in a long time. It was also the first restaurant salsa I’ve had that I could compare favorably with the salsa they used to make at a place called Casa Miguel’s, in Greenwood. Amy and I used to eat there all the time when she lived in Greenwood before we got married, and when we lived in Southport after we got married. Unfortunately, it closed a number of years ago; and we lost what was easily the best-kept secret in Mexican cuisine in the metro area. We have searched far and wide, and have yet to find anything that even comes close.

I reset the odometer triptych for the ride home, and spent most of that time in the car trying to rationalize driving all the way out there again if we didn’t have any other reason to go that far. The restaurant is on Rockville Road, just east of Lynhurst. Rockville eventually runs into Washington Street near the White River, and that’s about four miles from the restaurant, just west of the zoo. It’s about another six miles from the zoo to our house. That’s twenty miles round trip, and that might just be beyond the pale, all things being equal. (On the other hand, we have a membership to the zoo, and go fairly frequently, so The Tamale Place could maybe wind up being our lunch stop on days when we go to the zoo.) It might be too far away for us to frequent, but we’re definitely going back.

5226 Rockville Road
248-9771
www.thetamaleplace.com