RESTAURANT REVIEW: Toca Madera

Taylor Swift! Travis Kelce! These two lovebirds famously dined at the Las Vegas location of this modern Mexican Steakhouse, which opened an outpost about a year ago in the Thompson Hotel near Downtown Houston. Now that I have your attention, let's talk about the food (and briefly the atmosphere).

The vibe (and this place is the quintessence of the recent "vibe dining" trend) is a sort of Mexico City/Tulum amalgamation, and the decor is pretty impressive. The "bird's nest" wooden lattice entrance/patio was reminiscent of its Beijing Olympic stadium namesake, though the Spanish moss and various other vines and greens in which it was draped gave it a much more welcoming feel. Inside a DJ was thumping beats, and fire dancers roamed the periphery, creating a very Vegas-y atmosphere.

This was a larger group get-together, which meant family-style dining. While I would usually lament not being able to order for myself, it did end up affording me the ability to sample more dishes than I otherwise could have. On the table to start were tortilla chips and a roughly chopped chunky tomato salsa, really more of a pico de gallo, which had a very nice heat to it that I enjoyed. Next came a woefully
undersalted guacamole served with plantain chips, a nice change of pace. Pomegranate seeds and lime pepitas (??) only added to the overabundance of lime
juice in this dip that should be next to impossible to screw up. The acid assault continued in a yellowtail ceviche that nearly blew out my palate. Citrus is by definition an essential part of this dish, but my goodness you need to have some balance, as I could hardly taste the fish. Though I must give credit where it's due: the presentation was gorgeous, with a ring of sliced avocados supporting the diced fish, onions, and tomatoes.

I know it's a mark of sophistication to have a refined and well-rounded palate, but there are always going to be some things that I dislike, and unfortunately the next appetizer contained one of my three major oh-no-no foods. The "exotic mushrooms" in the truffle quesadilla were far too slimy (as mushrooms almost invariably are, in my opinion) for me to taste more than a couple bites, though the
manchego cheese lent a nice nuttiness, and a pair of sauces distracted me from
the evil fungus that I so detest.

If you've made it this far, you may be thinking that this restaurant is a disaster, but it just so happens that almost everything else from here on out was good to excellent, so don't despair. Apparently the chef was on a Japanese amberjack kick, because another hamachi dish was also served among the appetizers. This was a raw yellowtail preparation that rivaled anything you could find at a top Japanese restaurant in the city, bathed in a smoked truffle ponzu with truffle oil and shiso. Rounding out the starters were chicken tinga tostaditas (the diminutive form of tostadas that I never knew existed), a two-bite round chip topped with a bountiful hunk of shredded chicken in a zesty tomato and chipotle sauce. Chicken tinga is one of my all-time favorite dishes, and while this one was certainly tasty, I do have to brag that a superior version is cooked at least once a month by a member of my household (not me).

Moving on to the mains... and then there were three (Genesis reference). A chicken al pastor plate continued my apparent quest to conquer as many non-pork al pastors as possible this month. While the quarter chicken was perhaps not the most ideal vessel for sharing amongst a large table, the skin was nicely seasoned, and the rich mahogany sauce sang out with both achiote and pineapple flavors that one expects from the classic Mexican marinade. However, the menu hinted at the presence of a beurre monte (melted emulsified butter), which for the life of me I could not locate. Oh well, still delicious.

One of the standout dishes were the Diver scallops. Despite the possibly falsely-advertised method of procurement (these are technically harvested by hand, only between November and April, and while they could have been frozen, these definitely tasted fresh), the scallops were exquisitely tender, and the aji amarillo salsa played nicely against the buttery brininess of the bivalve (not to mention some lovely pickled red onions on top, which I absolutely love 100% of the time). By the way, just for future reference, if I ever mention scallops you should read it in the Gordon Ramsay English pronunciation, because I am very pretentious and that's how I like to say it.

Finally, we come to the flaming Wagyu tomahawk. This signature item is prepared table side, carted in with the rib bone hanging down alongside some sage and thyme. The chef then flambés the meat (in this case with bourbon, but I believe normally with mezcal) in a lovely bit of pomp and circumstance, and then carves it up and serves it on a large wooden block. The result is a perfectly pink medium rare with a delectable smoky char on the outside. They also serve up the fatty spinalis (or rib cap, aka the Rolls Royce cut), which has such intense marbling and an almost burnt ends-like crust on the outside. And I can't forget the tremendous sauce, which was a chimichurri with some of the bone marrow mixed in. Remarkable.

The superior of the two desserts was a brown butter cake, a donut-shaped gateau topped with a rich bourbon toffee sauce that I quite enjoyed. A strawberry tres leches was adequate, but fell well short of the Houston T.L. standard (Churrascos). A fairly substantial cocktail menu made it a bit difficult to choose, but I had to order the No Mames (h/t bearinho), which was a tiki-esque drink with mezcal, rum, orgeat and a variety of fruity mixers. The Papasito was their take on an old fashioned, served inside of a smoke-filled cloche with a bit of flair that I so love.

So a bit up and down, as you can probably tell if you made it through this tome, but there were definitely some standout items. If you're looking for a vibe dining experience and don't mind some eye-watering prices, it can make for a fun evening.

NEXT UP: I missed Bryan Caswell's original flagship restaurant before it closed... but not this time.