(Lakewood) 303.274.6599 (Lodo) 720.904.TACO
By Jason Sheehan, Westword.com
Long ago, from what I understand, this spot was an outpost of Las Delicias, the homegrown Mexican chain. Later, Eddie Aguirre (who comes from the Las Delicias family) took over the address and made it his own, upscaling both the interior and the menu, giving it a LoDo vibe while still serving real Mexican food in the shadow of all those office towers that, nightly, spill out his best, most loyal customers. D'Corazon does good business. Dinners are busy, boisterous, with people occasionally banging like pinballs from the yellow walls. The margaritas facilitate this; they're strong and cheap, the two best things any margarita can ever aspire to be. At lunch the line can stretch out the door, every seat full, waitresses flitting from table to table like small, bright birds until the hours begin to wear and they start clomping like warhorses, tempers shortening, walking every step like it's uphill at a wicked slant. There's this joke: When D'Corazon opened, all the tables were round. It was the business, the speed of the staff flying by a hundred or a thousand times a day, that flattened all those easy curves, brought every table in the place to a fine, smooth square. It's not a true story, but it's true...
Long ago, from what I understand, this spot was an outpost of Las Delicias, the homegrown Mexican chain. Later, Eddie Aguirre (who comes from the Las Delicias family) took over the address and made it his own, upscaling both the interior and the menu, giving it a LoDo vibe while still serving real Mexican food in the shadow of all those office towers that, nightly, spill out his best, most loyal customers. D'Corazon does good business. Dinners are busy, boisterous, with people occasionally banging like pinballs from the yellow walls. The margaritas facilitate this; they're strong and cheap, the two best things any margarita can ever aspire to be. At lunch the line can stretch out the door, every seat full, waitresses flitting from table to table like small, bright birds until the hours begin to wear and they start clomping like warhorses, tempers shortening, walking every step like it's uphill at a wicked slant. There's this joke: When D'Corazon opened, all the tables were round. It was the business, the speed of the staff flying by a hundred or a thousand times a day, that flattened all those easy curves, brought every table in the place to a fine, smooth square. It's not a true story, but it's true...
....
On Monday, I'm back for carnitas in a dining room that's silent but for the
Spanish Muzak and a waitress singing along up by the hostess stand. The
carnitas come wet, falling to pieces as soon as I look at them, and are
delicious wrapped in a tortilla (good again) with a smear of guacamole and
a little lettuce. I skip the rellenos because I have never developed a Coloradan's taste for them and take some tacos to go off the à la carte menu — three of them for six bucks and change, all desebrado, gone before I make it back to the office. I'm back on Tuesday for enchiladas, comfort food for the ethnically displaced. As with the chile con queso, I can't stop eating them. I put away the entire plate, scraping after the scraps with the edge of my fork. When I think no one is looking, I eat some of the leftover sauce with a spoon and savor the burn on the roof of my mouth like it was whiskey...
To Read the full Review from Westord, Click Here. http://www.Westword.com/Restaurants
Spanish Muzak and a waitress singing along up by the hostess stand. The
carnitas come wet, falling to pieces as soon as I look at them, and are
delicious wrapped in a tortilla (good again) with a smear of guacamole and
a little lettuce. I skip the rellenos because I have never developed a Coloradan's taste for them and take some tacos to go off the à la carte menu — three of them for six bucks and change, all desebrado, gone before I make it back to the office. I'm back on Tuesday for enchiladas, comfort food for the ethnically displaced. As with the chile con queso, I can't stop eating them. I put away the entire plate, scraping after the scraps with the edge of my fork. When I think no one is looking, I eat some of the leftover sauce with a spoon and savor the burn on the roof of my mouth like it was whiskey...
To Read the full Review from Westord, Click Here. http://www.Westword.com/Restaurants