Trotter's
Those wily Trotters have done it again. First it was Pancho's over 30 years ago; next La Tratto; and now son Paul and father Wayne inaugurate another jewel in their commercial crown: Trotter's. Unlike anyone else in Mérida, the Trotters understand that half the battle of any restaurant is the "show". Whether you are eating in the wacky Mexican theme restaurant, Pancho's, or in the subdued and tasteful South Beach-styled La Tratto, being in a Trotter environment is a celebration, with all the components necessary for great people-watching as well as satisfying dining. While the food of Trotter's in Mérida boasts none of the look-at-me inventiveness of Trotter's in Chicago (by the way, the Mérida Trotters are not related to the celebrated Chicago chef, Charlie Trotter), the best news here is that you are assured of being very well fed. This isn't about high art: this is about downright good eating. The descriptor beneath the Trotter's logo - "Steak Tapas Vino" - says it all. Do not stray from this dictum and you will not be disappointed.
As you approach Trotter's, a fantastic new reality dawns: Mérida's restaurant scene has entered the 21st century! A 50+-year-old mansion has been enveloped in a fabulous Mies-homage steel-and-glass cube that is as fascinating to look at as is the scene that beckons behind the crystal panels. Trotter's son-in-law, architect Xavier Salas, created the dramatic space and devised a well-conceived plan for seeing and being seen. A mezzanine level is perfect for voyeuristic diners, and the lower main floor forms an ideal stage for those customers who enjoy being admired. The enormous outdoor terrace/garden is surprisingly tranquil, with its ancient tree providing a seductive veil for the tables below. (Only one off-note regarding the ambience: when we entered the restaurant we were greeted by the disturbing smell of cleaning liquid which I later discovered emanates from the restrooms located just inside the entrance. This vile odor occasionally wafted our way as we sat on the terrace, where it was thankfully extinguished by my friends' chain-smoking. Yes, even smoke is better than that smell. Suggestion to everyone in México: a natural cleaning product, such as vinegar, would be better for a dining establishment. Especially true at Trotter's, considering the location of the restrooms.)
Once inside, you are deposited onto the dazzling mezzanine level. Pause for a moment to show off that new outfit, and as you wait to be seated, study the long display rack featuring Trotter's appealing, if small, wine collection. Most of the labels are New World wines, which is OK with me. Argentina, Australia, Baja, California and Chile are represented with some fine offerings. Friends of mine who are wine snobs (very knowledgeable ones at that, and thus deserving of the title) feel Trotter's could do better in the wine cellar. I'm too much of a realist, I guess - or am I just cynical? I know what is and what is not available in the peninsula, am painfully aware of the sand traps of shipping and storing wines in the tropics, and so I have made myself content with what we have. But not to sound monkish I was delighted with the 2001 Pooles Rock "Firestick" Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon blend, from the Hunter Valley region in Australia. This was no mere tradeoff: it was an excellent bottle, with a deep black cherry bouquet. I wish I had a glass right now.
The menu at Trotter's is as dizzying as the architecture. Its scores of dishes could overwhelm, but like the space, the menu has been neatly tamed into easily navigable units. Their signature steaks are right smack in the center, where they should be, especially when they are this excellent. Appetizers and salads fittingly take a back seat.
We started with Chef Armando Morales' Spinach and Chaya Dip, served in a small metal bowl atop a Sterno flame. The function of this device was, we soon learned, to keep the cheese base of the dip melted. Our flame kept being blown out by a gentle breeze, such that during our appetizer course the cheese gradually vulcanized into a stringy ball that was difficult to scoop with the curiously colorful orange and green totopos. Nonetheless, we all liked the mild flavor that seemed to feature just a hint of jalapeño or something a bit picante, transcending the intrinsic blandness of the two eponymous leafy green vegetables. The winning appetizer was entitled Rustic Pathe of Blossom Squash, Shrimp and Lobster with Goat Cheese and a Mild Chile X'catik Sauce. (For the initiate to Yucatecan cuisine, the x'catik is a local blond chile.) We finally realized they meant "Paté of Squash Blossom, etc." At least we think so. None of the sophisticated foodies at our table had ever heard of a "Pathe" outside the movie industry. Whatever the case, the pathe was really more like a mousse creamy, light, almost foamy, with all the flavors deliciously balanced to perfection. The subtle sweetness of the seafood was the top note and miraculously held its own against the zing of the x'catik cream that encircled the two generously sized portions of paté? mousse? pathe? whatever. A pathe is a pathe is a pathe...
Salads were mixed (pun intended). The Caesar Salad was an odd combination of mesclun greens, avocado, tomato and a tart citrus dressing. Caesar? I don't think so. No sign of even a scrap of Romaine or Parmesan, nor a whisper of anchovy. These are the tried, true and expected ingredients of a Caesar Salad; vary from the recipe and you risk disappointing your customers. That said, the salad was very tasty. So don't throw out the salad with the dressing, just change the name: "Stop Calling Me 'Caesar' Salad", or "Et tu Brute Salad", or "Sid Caesar Salad". Then I would know what I was getting myself into when I ordered. The House Salad was a delicious and complex blend of tastes and textures: buttery avocado, tangy panela cheese, refreshing juliennes of crispy jícama, zippy chipotle croutons and in startling contrast an Asian soy-sesame dressing
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Why do I always seem to order the least interesting dish at the table? I have absolutely no complaints about my tuna - it was sushi-grade, beautifully seared on the outside, rosy pinkness preserved intact on the inside, with a zesty mustard sauce. It's just that in no way did it compare with the exquisite cuts of meat I kept pilfering from the plates of my companions.
The Entrecôte with Cabernet Wine Sauce was tender and perfectly prepared, the sauce giving it a richness that both expressed and complemented the full meat flavors. (The only service slip - an astonishing feat in itself since the restaurant had only been open two days - was that the customer asked for the sauce on the side, but it didn't arrive that way. I like to know what the chef is thinking, so I never request such things; but I empathized with both my friend's desire to experience the meat in its beautiful nakedness before ladling on the sauce, as well as her disappointment at not being able to do so)
The Rib Eye was the hands-down winner: it needed no adornments, so rich was its marbling. The buttery sautéed vegetable medley was a thoughtful accompaniment. Finally, the Steak au Poivre, while dreamy, suffered from the Trotter's Caesar Salad Syndrome: it wasn't really steak au poivre. True steak au poivre, as served in even the most humble bistro found anywhere in France, is crusted with a thick layer of coarsely crushed black peppercorns, usually served with a cognac/butter sauce and occasionally with sautéed mushrooms. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, as with the Caesar Salad, the taste was excellent just not according to the ingredients that historically define the dish. In this case, green peppercorns in a red wine reduction formed a rich and flavorful sauce; but as it should be, the real star was the meat. Tenderloin medallions were fork-tender and grilled exactly as ordered. Name change suggestion: Tenderloin Medallions with Green Peppercorns and Red Wine Reduction. That's what it was.
Desserts at Trotter's are an afterthought: all the usual suspects Flan, Pay de Coco, Flan. No thanks. We were told that the dessert menu had not been fully developed, but is soon to follow. Let's hope for a little bravado (and invention, please?) in that department.
On the night we went to the restaurant, the place was glamorously packed. Perhaps the true showmanship of Trotter's is that Wayne and son Paul, who is the kitchen manager for the family empire, manage to juggle so many balls at once and not lose their balance. Circuito Colonias between Calle 60 and Prolongación Montejo (next to the Renault dealership). Reservations: 927.04.34
