El Haab's and the Haab-nots
El Haab, The Haab or simply Haab, Joaquin Velasquezs new Mexican joint, opened with little fanfare in mid-August on a charmless Williamsburg street. This follows in the proud tradition of hardworking, low-key restaurants that have popped up on the strip of Grand Street between, say, Union and Graham avenues.
El Haab, the name is a term for one of the Mayan calendars, has burrowed into a Leonard Street storefront. The eateries on this restaurant row are of varying quality and surprisingly varied cuisine. Theres The Wombat, blithe Australian food; The Willburg Café, an amusingly genuine café; Lily Thai, solid Thai; Le Barricou, an authentic bistro du coin. All service the neighborhood denizen on his way to or from a nasty hangover, and all are united by a uniform lack of buzz. Let Manhattan have flash-in-the-pan hotspots. This is salt-of-the-earthor at least sea salt of the earthrestaurant row.
The largely undiscerning palate of locals means El Haab doesnt have to be very good. It could be just OK and do fine. After all, its only el burro que trabaja doble. But happily, El Haab belongs to that other great countervailing Williamsburg trend: small and very good Mexican restaurants. El Haabs cohort includes La Superior, El Mesa Coyoacan and Taco Chulo, places that offer simple Mexican food that uses fresh ingredients and is sold at prices not too much higher than what youd pay at some taqueria in La Roma, DF.
Like these other restaurants, El Haab isnt innovative. It traffics in authenticity, not novelty. On the menu at El Haab youll find the traditional taxonomyburritos, quesadillas, tacos, tortas and appetizers most available with the canon of Mexican meats: pork al pastor, marinated steak, shredded chicken and grilled shrimp. This is Mexican food for dummies.
On a recent visit, I began with the elote placero, traditional Mexican corn on the cob. Its sweet all rightwhite corn kernels, the unholy mayonnaise and butter, cheesebut a bit of chili powder and a squeeze of lime temper the sweetness. Theres nothing new here, no quirky addition of cotija foam or panko dust. But why fuck with a good thing? I chased the corn with the Gringa Quesadilla, figuring it was the most appropriate. It was a beast, belying Velasquezs belief, perhaps, that the only thing that pleases a gringo more than a quesadilla stuffed with pork is a quesadilla stuffed with pork and beef and cheese and pinto beans. It was a meat-andcheese flavor explosion, especially topped with small fiery dabs of Salsa Diabla, El Haabs homemade hot sauce. It was good, if overwhelming. On subsequent meals, Id isolate each element to best suss out the strongest, cycling through the pork quesadilla, the beef quesadilla and the cheese quesadilla with a scientific eye. Without a doubt, the quesadilla al pastor wins. Its like culinary Clue. It was the pork in the quesadilla with the smokiness!
The pork also finds itself particularly well used in El Haabs substantial and daily brunch menu, which seems engineered especially to provide succor to the hungover freelancer free to eat cheap eggs at 11 a.m. On a recent Tuesday, it was only me, a hangover and a heavy plate of chilaquiles fried then simmered tortilla triangles doused with a green chile sauceat El Haab. Topped with two eggs over easy and a scoop of pork, the meal was both horribly bad for me and completely salutary. I left, sleepy and full, to drift past Grand Streets restaurant row, peeking into half empty cafes on a full stomach.
>> El Haab 202 Leonard St. (betw. Grand & Maujer Sts.), Brooklyn, 718-388-4261.