Review: Wapango
Oh. My. God! It’s like, totally, my coolest, bestest dream come true. Dude, I have a job that, like, totally requires me to go to the mall. That is awesome. I am so calling my friends. Well, right after I review the superhot new restaurant at THE MALL!
So I’m jaded, but the restaurant I was sent to this month is right next to The Cheesecake Factory – the poster child for overcrowded, mediocre chain mall restaurants serving gut-busting portions. Heck, even the name put me off: “Wapango” appeared to be the phonetic spelling of the sound a hockey puck made, as a kid, when you sailed a slap shot wide of the goal and dented the aluminum garage door. It may not be a chain yet, but it’s on its way.
Luckily, nothing washes away uneasiness better than a rum cocktail, and Wapango had plenty of those to choose from while I sat at the bar overlooking the open space and the warm, yet somehow sleek, décor. A 10 Cane (brand of rum) mojito was nuanced with a sugar cane spear (an excellent swizzle stick) that lent caramel and brown sugar notes and gave you something sweet to, quite literally, chew on. The seasonal Wapango (the name, I learned, is from a popular Latin American dance) for early fall, a simple twist on a traditional mojito, offered intriguing citric sweetness from blood oranges to pair with the lime, muddled mint, agave nectar and sugar. This same technique could have worked for the blood orange caipirinha, but too much soda water seemed to overly tame the flavors.
When we were seated, the server went and destroyed all the work that the kind bartender had done to settle my nerves by claiming that the pork carnitas (slow-cooked pork that is shredded, then fried) in the arepas was the “best pork I’ve ever had.” Oh, no, stay away from the absolutes. But it did, indeed, turn out to be very good pork – succulent, moist and savory – and it was paired with a sweet and warm chile-orange mojo, vaguely spicy black beans and a soft but crunchy corn cake from which the dish takes its name.
Other dishes on the pan-Latin menu hit and missed. Three zippy tomato gazpacho shots topped with a creamy avocado gazpacho could also be ordered with tequila to float in the shooters for extra bite. I recommend this course of action. Ahi tuna was relegated to a textural element in the ceviche de atún, lost beneath the fire of serrano chiles and the almost pure salt of pickled onions. Without the rich tuna to play off, the cilantro, lime, red and gold peppers and coconut milk were bit players in the dish.
Crisp and fluffy yuca fries arrived with two dipping sauces. The nicely warm and tangy chile aïoli was a superb accompaniment, but the chimichurri (garlic and cilantro with a light heat) just didn’t fit the fries. It did, however, fit a pretty solid Cuban sandwich. Though the pork loin, carnitas and smoked ham were all juicy and flavorful, the sandwich suffered a bit from too little mustard and too few pickles. But chimichurri is made for meat and, though not intended for this sandwich, jazzed it up nicely.
The kitchen made an excellent decision when it topped the nicely seared, medium-rare Latino tenderloin with a peppy garlic mojo and sweet little Ecuadorian langostino tails instead of something as mundane as steak butter. Cloudlike roasted potatoes make easy work of any leftover mojo. Pescado Rostisado (fish o’ the day) was a moist, tender and flaky sautéed sea bass paired excellently with slightly spicy and rich chorizo-rice pilaf and a zesty hibiscus-and-roasted Roma tomato broth. Collard greens simply existed, neither hurting nor helping the dish.
After the arepas, expectations for the cochinita pibil – and specifically the achiote-seasoned pork, slow-roasted in banana leaves – were high. However, the pork had begun to dry out and the lack of seasoning forced me to rely heavily on black beans, rice, pico de gallo and other condiments for flavor and moisture when filling the flour tortillas that came with the dish. A rich and, somehow, vivacious mixture of coconut milk, bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, garlic, dende oil and golden rice in the Brazilian moqueca paired well with all the seafood but especially the tender giant scallops and the delicate mussels.
Interestingly, the most disappointing dish really showcased Wapango’s customer service. While the calabacitas – a medley of sweet corn, zucchini, onions and tomato – in the Wapango feast for two proved that my 16-month-old could, indeed, enjoy vegetables, most of the meat came out a bit overcooked. The pork tenderloin, especially, was dry to the point of being solid brown crust in places. This was when the staff sprang into action. Rather than ignoring us or arguing, they just remedied this gaffe with comped desserts and offered to bring us a new pork tenderloin. How nice to know that our dining interests were put ahead of food cost.
In the molten chocolate fritters with warm caramel sauce and cinnamon ice cream, temperatures, textures and tastes played off of one another, never allowing one to be too sweet or rich.
Once I dug into Wapango a little bit, my anxiety melted away and I no longer saw it as a “mall restaurant” but a fairly solid eatery that happened to be located at a mall. And even if a dish or two missed its mark, the service ensured that it never became a roadblock to a pleasurable experience.
