OCWeekly February 18, 2016 : Page 18

| classifieds | music | culture | film | food | calendar | feature | the county | contents | food » reviews | listings CHOMP CHOMP! | CONTENTS | THE COUNTY | FEATURE | CALENDAR | FOOD | FILM | CULTURE | MUSIC | CLASSIFIEDS | H OLE I N T HE W ALL Al Pastor Tacos At Their Finest » GUSTAVO ARELLANO MEXICO LINDO . . . Y QUE RICO! 10962 Magnolia Ave., Anaheim, (714) 821-1659. S Back In Black BRIAN FEINZIMER Rachel Klemek’s Blackmarket Bakery is all grown up BY EDWIN GOEI not intended to be eaten with your hands. For lunch, Klemek’s crew uses the Waring for its intended purpose. When I ordered the Gobbler—a griddled mon-strosity of bacon, turkey, Brie, apples, plumped cranberries and basil mayo under the Dutch Crunch bread—I watched as my sandwich assembler piled slice after slice of apple onto an already-teetering stack of fillings. That’s never going to hold, I thought. But I was wrong. The finished sandwich was nothing short of a miracle, with everything inside of it fused into a harmonious mass. If it’s not the best tur-key sandwich in OC, it’s certainly the best sandwich at Blackmarket. That’s not to say that the other turkey-based sandwiches, such as the Members Only and the Phoe-nix, aren’t good—but it’s the Gobbler you want. Or if you’re vegetarian, you can’t go wrong with any of the grilled cheeses made with the seeded sourdough, a rustic loaf textured as though a bran muffin. When you are ready for dessert, order a sundae, with one of Blackmarket’s cookies acting as a base to ice cream and scorched marshmallows. At least one sundae is sprinkled with bacon. The Santa Ana location also offers a “bar bites” menu that includes meatballs and mac and cheese you can nibble along with beer on weekend evenings—something I never would’ve imagined eight years ago in that Irvine office park. Then again, even Steve Jobs had to start in a garage. BLACKMARKET BAKERY 211 N. Broadway, Santa Ana, (714) 571-0801; blackmarketbakery.com. Open Mon.-Thurs., 8 a.m.-7 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 8 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sun., 8 a.m.-4 p.m. Sandwiches, $5.35-$9.75. Beer and wine. I 18 last reviewed Rachel Klemek’s Black-market Bakery in 2008, when it was in its infancy. I got lost trying to find it. I was told it occupied a small office space, tucked away in an anonymous Irvine industrial park. But there was no sign, and iPhones at the time weren’t equipped with GPS. Then, just as I was about to give up, I saw it: a Scion emblazoned on all sides with Blackmarket Bakery’s trademark “cake UFO” motif. I’d seen it zipping around OC before, but now—parked out front—it was acting as a big red X marking the spot. The car was Blackmarket’s sign-post to the world that there was, indeed, a made-from-scratch bakery by a Culinary Institute of America alum back here among the Dunder Mifflins. When I went inside, there was barely any room to turn around, and at regular intervals, the roar of landing planes bound for John Wayne Airport rattled the win-dows. But Klemek stocked the cramped space full of brownies, scones and cook-ies, and in the back, I saw her in an apron teaching baking classes. Cut to eight years later. Klemek has built her brand to become arguably OC’s most beloved homegrown bakery. Black-market Bakery is a respected fixture at farmers’ markets, and her two retail locations (in Costa Mesa and Santa Ana) have now become landmarks in and of themselves. The Santa Ana store, inside the Santora Building, is the newest and the one with the most potential. As you walk in, you immediately notice the bar counter with beer taps in front of antique wooden stools and ancient wrought iron. You see a banquette of seats to the right and a small merchandise section that’s still a work in progress compared to the Costa Mesa location. Already, there are packaged shortbreads, bags of meringues and hipster chocolate bars. But let’s face it: You’re not going to Blackmarket Bakery to buy overpriced chocolate. You go for the sandwiches— and maybe a chocolate hazelnut twist for dessert. Most people come during break-fast, with everyone trying to make the 11 a.m. cut-off time to put in their order for Klemek’s Eggy Wiches. Though it may be her version of a drive-thru breakfast sandwich, fast-food McMuffins these are not. In fact, an order for an Eggy Wich can take as long as 15 minutes to prepare. Eggs are cracked to order onto Waring sand-wich presses that double as short-order griddles. And when cheese needs to be melted onto bread, Blackmarket’s kitchen staff employ their professional rotating bread ovens to do it. The effort is worth it. My favorite Blackmarket breakfast sandwich right now is the Bandera: two fried eggs crammed inside a pillow-soft brioche with pepper jack, cotija cheese, crumbled chorizo, warmed green chiles and just the right amount of pickled red onions. It’s the kind of breakfast sandwich that, for once, didn’t require the Tabasco or Sriracha I typically drown my Egg McMuffins in. The most substantial Eggy Wich Blackmarket makes is the Southern Comfort. Because of its popularity, the morning I ordered it, the kitchen ran out of the buttermilk biscuit with which it’s supposed to come. Instead, crackle-crusted slices of sourdough were substi-tuted, probably cutting the calorie count by half. Either way—with its excess of housemade gravy and a honking sausage patty as thick as a Counter Burger—it’s | ocweekly.com | tart with its full name—not just Mexico Lindo (Beautiful Mexico), but Mexico Lindo . . . Y Que Rico (Beautiful Mexico . . . And How Delicious!). More than just a proclamation of the worth of its food, it’s also probably the best restau-rant pun in Orange County: A take on the Jorge Negrete mariachi classic “México Lindo y Querido” (“Beautiful, Beloved Mexico”), the “God Bless America” of the country south of our border. That name is a signifi er to Mexicans that here is a spot for them and them alone, that Mexico Lindo doesn’t care if gabachos come in—it probably doesn’t even expect them to because it’s located in Stanton. Okay, it’s technically in Anaheim, but this stretch of Magnolia Avenue ain’t exactly the Champs-Élysées. But here is a well-lit spot, with neon trim on the large windows and Christmas lights on the roof year-round. Besides, the sight of a roaring fi re heating up a spit of al pastor will comfort you. So will an armada of jugs fi lled with aguas frescas—horchata, tamarindo, strawberry, pineapple and so many more. Come night-fall, Mexico Lindo’s customers essentially ditch the rest of the menu to line up for the fresh al pastor tacos and aguas frescas. It’s the latest trend for Mexican restaurants in la naranja —and Mexico Lindo does it best. The tacos are as perfect as can be: large, juicy, fragrant, and accompanied by slices of cucumbers and jalapeños, as well as a swarm of pickled red onions (radishes, too, but rábanos belong on tacos the way Mexicans belong in the Trump campaign). The al pastor is tender and only the slightest bit crispy, the type you’d fi nd at Tijuana’s legendary Tacos El Franc—all that’s missing is the avocado salsa. Instead, Mexico Lindo mixes it up with a strong red. These are the type of tacos that you’ll order, fi nish, order some more, fi nish, then get a third helping— the best compliment to a taco I have in my arsenal (and I can easily go for four trips). Mexico Lindo’s regular menu is a mishmash of Cal-Mex, chilango and even pozole verde, the Tierra Caliente spe-cialty that should become the next chila-quiles. But the nighttime taquiza is when Mexico Lindo is on fi re . . . ¡que rico! GARELLANO@OCWEEKLY.COM February 19-25, 2016 MONTH XX–XX, 2014 | OCWEEKLY.COM | 1 MORE ONLINE a READ FOOD & DRINK OCWEEKLY.COM/RESTAURANTS

Review

Edwin Goei

Back In Black

Rachel Klemek’s Black market Bakery is all grown up

I last reviewed Rachel Klemek’s Black market Bakery in 2008, when it was in its infancy. I got lost trying to find it. I was told it occupied a small office space, tucked away in an anonymous Irvine industrial park. But there was no sign, and iPhones at the time weren’t equipped with GPS. Then, just as I was about to give up, I saw it: a Scion emblazoned on all sides with Black market Bakery’s trademark “cake UFO” motif. I’d seen it zipping around OC before, but now—parked out front—it was acting as a big red X marking the spot. The car was Black market’s signpost to the world that there was, indeed, a made-from-scratch bakery by a Culinary Institute of America alum back here among the Dunder Mifflins.

When I went inside, there was barely any room to turn around, and at regular intervals, the roar of landing planes bound for John Wayne Airport rattled the windows. But Klemek stocked the cramped space full of brownies, scones and cookies, and in the back, I saw her in an apron teaching baking classes.

Cut to eight years later. Klemek has built her brand to become arguably OC’s most beloved homegrown bakery. Black market Bakery is a respected fixture at farmers’ markets, and her two retail locations (in Costa Mesa and Santa Ana) have now become landmarks in and of themselves. The Santa Ana store, inside the Santora Building, is the newest and the one with the most potential. As you walk in, you immediately notice the bar counter with beer taps in front of antique wooden stools and ancient wrought iron. You see a banquette of seats to the right and a small merchandise section that’s still a work in progress compared to the Costa Mesa location. Already, there are packaged shortbreads, bags of meringues and hipster chocolate bars.

But let’s face it: You’re not going to Black market Bakery to buy overpriced chocolate. You go for the sandwiches— and maybe a chocolate hazelnut twist for dessert. Most people come during breakfast, with everyone trying to make the 11 a. m. cut-off time to put in their order for Klemek’s Eggy Wiches. Though it may be her version of a drive-thru breakfast sandwich, fast-food McMuffins these are not. In fact, an order for an Eggy Wich can take as long as 15 minutes to prepare. Eggs are cracked to order onto Waring sandwich presses that double as short-order griddles. And when cheese needs to be melted onto bread, Black market’s kitchen staff employ their professional rotating bread ovens to do it.

The effort is worth it. My favorite Black market breakfast sandwich right now is the Bandera: two fried eggs crammed inside a pillow-soft brioche with pepper jack, cotija cheese, crumbled chorizo, warmed green chiles and just the right amount of pickled red onions. It’s the kind of breakfast sandwich that, for once, didn’t require the Tabasco or Sriracha I typically drown my Egg McMuffins in.

The most substantial Eggy Wich Black market makes is the Southern Comfort. Because of its popularity, the morning I ordered it, the kitchen ran out of the buttermilk biscuit with which it’s supposed to come. Instead, cracklecrusted slices of sourdough were substituted, probably cutting the calorie count by half. Either way—with its excess of house made gravy and a honking sausage patty as thick as a Counter Burger—it’s not intended to be eaten with your hands.

For lunch, Klemek’s crew uses the Waring for its intended purpose. When I ordered the Gobbler—a griddled monstrosity of bacon, turkey, Brie, apples, plumped cranberries and basil mayo under the Dutch Crunch bread—I watched as my sandwich assembler piled slice after slice of apple onto an already-teetering stack of fillings. That’s never going to hold, I thought. But I was wrong. The finished sandwich was nothing short of a miracle, with everything inside of it fused into a harmonious mass. If it’s not the best turkey sandwich in OC, it’s certainly the best sandwich at Black market. That’s not to say that the other turkey-based sandwiches, such as the Members Only and the Phoenix, aren’t good—but it’s the Gobbler you want. Or if you’re vegetarian, you can’t go wrong with any of the grilled cheeses made with the seeded sourdough, a rustic loaf textured as though a bran muffin.

When you are ready for dessert, order a sundae, with one of Black market’s cookies acting as a base to ice cream and scorched marshmallows. At least one sundae is sprinkled with bacon. The Santa Ana location also offers a “bar bites” menu that includes meatballs and mac and cheese you can nibble along with beer on weekend evenings—something I never would’ve imagined eight years ago in that Irvine office park. Then again, even Steve Jobs had to start in a garage.

BLACKMARKET BAKERY 211 N. Broadway, Santa Ana, (714) 571-0801; blackmarketbakery.com. Open Mon.-Thurs., 8 a.m.-7 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 8 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sun., 8 a.m.-4 p.m. Sandwiches, $5.35-$9.75. Beer and wine.

Read the full article at http://digitalissue.ocweekly.com/article/Review/2400680/291124/article.html.

Hole In The Wall

Gustavo Arellano

Al Pastor Tacos At Their Finest

Start with its full name-not just Mexico Lindo (Beautiful Mexico), but Mexico Lindo . . . Y Que Rico (Beautiful Mexico . . . And How Delicious!). More than just a proclamation of the worth of its food, it's also probably the best restaurant pun in Orange County: A take on the Jorge Negrete mariachi classic "México Lindo y Querido" ("Beautiful, Beloved Mexico"), the "God Bless America" of the country south of our border. That name is a signifier to Mexicans that here is a spot for them and them alone, that Mexico Lindo doesn't care if gabachos come in-it probably doesn't even expect them to because it's located in Stanton.

Okay, it's technically in Anaheim, but this stretch of Magnolia Avenue ain't exactly the Champs-Élysées. But here is a well-lit spot, with neon trim on the large windows and Christmas lights on the roof year-round. Besides, the sight of a roaring fire heating up a spit of al pastor will comfort you. So will an armada of jugs filled with aguas frescas-horchata, tamarindo, strawberry, pineapple and so many more. Come nightfall, Mexico Lindo's customers essentially ditch the rest of the menu to line up for the fresh al pastor tacos and aguas frescas. It's the latest trend for Mexican restaurants in la naranja-and Mexico Lindo does it best.

The tacos are as perfect as can be: large, juicy, fragrant, and accompanied by slices of cucumbers and jalapeños, as well as a swarm of pickled red onions (radishes, too, but rábanos belong on tacos the way Mexicans belong in the Trump campaign). The al pastor is tender and only the slightest bit crispy, the type you'd find at Tijuana's legendary Tacos El Franc-all that's missing is the avocado salsa. Instead, Mexico Lindo mixes it up with a strong red. These are the type of tacos that you'll order, finish, order some more, finish, then get a third helping- the best compliment to a taco I have in my arsenal (and I can easily go for four trips).

Mexico Lindo's regular menu is a mishmash of Cal-Mex, chilango and even pozole verde, the Tierra Caliente specialty that should become the next chilaquiles. But the nighttime taquiza is when Mexico Lindo is on fire . . . ¡que rico!

GARELLANO@OCWEEKLY.COM

Read the full article at http://digitalissue.ocweekly.com/article/Hole+In+The+Wall/2400681/291124/article.html.

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