“Me Vale Madre.” If you grew up speaking Spanish–or maybe just being around Spanish-speaking people–you probably know it’s a derrogatory term. Essentially, even though the phrase inludes the Spanish term “madre” which means “mother,” it’s telling someone you don’t give a fu…fudge. “Me Vale Madre” is Chilte’s mantra. It’s the restaurant staff basically saying “we don’t care that we don’t meet your conceptions of what Mexican food should be. We’re going to do it our way.” How can you not love that? I asked our server to explain to my Kim what that mantra means and he gave us a polite, G-rated version that was as far from the truth as a political promise.
Chilte’s website makes no bones about what it is and aspires to be: “Me vale is our mantra. Representing unapologetic authenticity to ourselves and our mission. Join us as we strive to inspire a new culture in the culinary industry by sourcing locally, cooking from the hert, mentoring one another and building a community through food.” The website also waxes nostalgic about Chilte’s humble beginnings: “Two kids, a grill and a tortilla press walk into a farmers market….Chilte! Starting in a 10X10 pop-up tent, we have always aimed to disrupt the industry at every level. Whether cooking on the street or in a five-star restaurant. As we lay the groundwork for our first brick and mortar we are determined to stay focus on the vision of where we are headed yet never forgetting where we come from.”
Chilte is the brainchild of husband and wife couple, native Phoenicians Lawrence Smith and Aseret Arroyo. After not making the final cut on the Food Network’s The Great Food Truck Race, they graduated from culinary school, worked with 2024 James Beard “best chef – Southwest” award-winner Rene Andrade and launch Chilte as a farmers’ market stand in 2020. Three years later, Chilte launched a brick-and-mortar operation that Bon Apetit named “one of the country’s best new restaurants in 2023.” Smith’s creative spins on his wife-partner’s family recipes are contemporary versions of traditional Mexican food. It’s probably not your mother’s Mexican food. It’s better.
Chilte’s inaugural launch as a brick-and-mortar doesn’t fit the stereotype of any Mexican restaurant you’ve ever see. That’s because it’s ensconced inside the historic Egyptian Motor Hotel in downtown Phoenix. The first time you visit Chilte, you’ve probably read somewhere about its “Egypt meets Mexico” motiff. Well-lit signage depicting a camel trotting away from a desert oasis is what you’ll see first. In the parking lot you’ll see the food truck in which Chilte once operated. If you can’t find a parking spot on the adjoining street, there may be one in the hotel parking lot.
It wasn’t solely Bon Apetit that heralded greatness for Chilte. In 2023, Forbes, Esquire and Mashed also named Chilte one of the country’s best new restaurants. Chilte, by the way, is short for chiltepin peppers, a potent chile which ranks an incendiary 50,000 to 100,000 units on the heat scale. That’s more piquant than tabasco and cayenne peppers. Like the restaurant that shares its name, chiltepin peppers grow in Arizona. If the term “Chilte” portends piquancy, you won’t be disappointed. If, however, you eschew eschew food that bites back, you’ll be hard-pressed to find much on the menu with the balm to placate your delicate taste buds.
I’ll give my Kim credit, she doesn’t dislike beans (a mortal sin for native New Mexicans) as much as she dislikes piquant foods. So, it surprised me when she acquiesed to an antojito (small plate) made with refried charro beans, crema, maduros (fried sweet plantains) and a light sprinkle of za’atar. Predictably she enjoyed the maduros and creama most, leaving the refried charro beans for me. Za’atar, a spice blend composed of herbs such as thyme, oregano, marjoram or a combination of the three, along with other spices including sesame, sumac, cumin or coriander, is a surprising addition that lends just a little punch to this amalgam. The sweet maduros were especially good, but combining every flavor profile into each bite was best.
Crushed pepinos (cucumbers in a sweet and spicy salsa macha dressing), also from the antojitos menu, were tailor-made for me. If I’m going to enjoy something sweet, it helps immensely that it also has some personality (Scoville units). These crushed pepinos certainly have that. They’re very reminiscent of the cucumber kimchi at K-Style Kitchen in Albuquerque. Both have that wonderful sweet heat that tantalizes the taste buds and make some people sweat. The salsa macha (whose name comes from the verb machacar (“to mash”)) isn’t nearly as potent as our server led me to believe (not all of us are able to eat Agent Orange).
With ten days having elapsed since I last had New Mexican chile and DTs (Delirium tremens) setting in from chile withdrawal, the one alternative any chef would have prescribed is mole. Fortunately Chilte’s Mole De La Casa (house mole) has many of the restorative qualities DTs sufferers require. The mole de la casa (house mole poblano, lamb neck flautas, crema, quesa de cabra (goat cheese)) is magnificent, among the very best I’ve ever had. Those lamb neck flautas are the stuff of dreams, tender tendrils of meat so rich and delicious that I nearly swooned. The goat cheese and crema lent savory notes to a mole that’s equal part sweet and savory.
In New Mexico, I can’t get my Kim to even try quesa birria tacos. Our server’s assurance that these quesa birria tacos ( (Benny Blanco flour tortillas, queso, onions, cabbage with miso consomme and salsa guero on the side) didn’t bite back was reason enough for her to order them. To our mutual surprise, she enjoyed them very much. Full-sized flour tortillas made these some of the largest tacos we’ve had. Full-sized flavor to match their size made them among the very best. The consomme was a bit on the salty side and the salsa guero was fairly mild, but my Kim didn’t use either.
Our server described the horchata semifreddo as being served with “Kayenta” (which is a small town in the Navajo nation). We didn’t have the heart to correct him. Cajeta is a thick, sweet confection made from boiled goat’s milk. It’s so much better than other caramel-based sauces. The New York Times describes semifreddo as “ice cream’s chic cousin,” in a realm “somewhere between gelato, cake and mousse.” It’s a fluffy, creamy, delightfully melty frozen dessert we thoroughly enjoyed, particulary every bit tinged by cajeta.
Chilte
765 Grand Ave
Phoenix, Arizona
(602) 807-5226
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 27 December 2024
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$$
BEST BET: Horchata Semifreddo With Cajeta, Quesa Birria Tacos, Mole De La Casa, Crushed Pepinos, Plantains and Refried Beans Covered With Crema and Sprinkled With Zatair
REVIEW #1442