Take It Inside

Finding warm respite from inclement weather at Lolita's

Just as the autumn leaves take on the colours of the Renaissance, other forces of nature also begin to exert themselves across our great land. These annual rituals are legion: no sooner have we turned our clocks back an hour than we stock up on Canadian Tire salt for holiday turkey brining. Other pursuits: the yearly retrieval of the duck-down duvet from under the stairs, and the purchase of one-size-larger corduroy trousers which causes gridlock in Kerrisdale.

So, as it turns out, scouting autumnal dining opportunities - the places where a cozy gemütlich reigns - where warmth and friendliness thwart the first startling scours of cold rain. Two informal rooms that offer exactly that and for about $100 per couple, espouse exactly that - with menus that appease one dish cravings, but also with enough reinvention to keep them coming back inside.

Lolita's, which bills itself a south of the border cantina, has such slender (but fecund) hips that you might imagine yourself dining inside a DC-3. The centre aisle is so narrow as to force drink laden trays above the flight attendants' heads, revealing lithe bellies, as well as just how badly Air Canada has missed its market. That you could be flying over the dusty barrios of Mexican towns tonight requires little imagination: the food is maneuvered to a place of Nuevo Latina cuisine that lands on hot soil and with more than a notion of fiesta Lolita's is exuberant and fun. Hell, it could even make David Caruso break a smile.

In the context of Mexican dining in Vancouver, Lolita's is almost as much about what it isn't (bullfight and Corona posters, watery salsa, bullhide chairs and wobbly tables) as what it is: remarkably clean, flavour forward cooking that is rooted in authentic preparations, inventive drinks, and service that is, by turns, swift but explanatory and all this in a room that puts the itch back in kitsch.

Mexican cooking is about all day preparation (especially of braised and pulled meats, salsa frecas and moles) and last minute assembly. On one visit, we sat at the three stool food bar that peers into the kitchen. There, Senor Phil, from Prince Rupert, skillfully constructed jicama salads and a number of tacos, and ladled sopa de tortilla into modern white bowls. He used to work on the line at Milestone's. Most of the patient cooking had happened earlier, but that would have to wait a moment.

For drinks run hot and cold at Lolita's. Quite literally in a loca limonada cocktail, where chilis were muddled into mango lemonade and dispatched with quality tequila and mango liqueur. A lime margarita proved as lissom as the person expertly making them. The beer list numbers Trinidadian Carib beer, Red Stripe from Jamaica and Spanish Alhambra. Refreshingly, of the three Mexican beers, there wasn't a bottle of Corona to be seen.

It's easy to spot the bin there, done that provenance of Lolita's in one of its owners, Lila Gaylie (her brother Jaison is her partner), who managed Gord Martin's Bin 942 chainlet for a time. Not only are the rooms similarly configured, they also attract the same eager, modish crowd and the pricing level, set to promote some sampling, is similar too.