Pollo en Mole

Pollo en Mole

In February 1980, I was living in Seal Beach.  Actually, I was living “on” Seal Beach.  Yeah, I had an apartment on the boardwalk.  I was pretty sweet.  I think back then I would say it was “bitchen”.  My brother Derek was living on the beach in San Blas, Mexico.  He and a friend were surfing there for about 6 months living in the back of his El Camino.  We talked long distance on the phone once or twice.  And on one call we got the idea to meet up in Mexico City.  We arranged to stay with my Dad’s cousin, Dione and his family.  We wanted to visit our Grandfather Mendez who also lived there.  We never remember meeting him and we didn’t know him as adults.  He was about 80 years old at the time.  And I am always looking for a reason to go to Mexico.

It was a miracle that we actually pulled it off, rendezvousing in Mexico City.  I took a flight from LAX and Dione picked me up at the airport.  We didn’t know him either, but we found each other OK.  Derek was going to meet me at the airport also a day later.  However, he was arriving by bus, a Mexican bus that took him on a 2 day journey across the mountains on a winding, treacherous road.  The bus was packed with locals and their crying babies, their livestock and chickens, chugging along, diesel smoke billowing through the open windows, sweltering hot in the jungle during the day and freezing cold in the mountains at night.   He called Dione’s house to announce this eventual arrival, and I remember he was really happy to see me when we drove up to the airport to pick him up.

Dione and his wife Marta are the nicest people in the world.  They have 2 sons that are a little younger than Derek and me.  At that time they were teenagers and busy with whatever they were doing.  Dione and Marata took us to the Pyramids, the central plaza and other sights in the area.  And he took us to meet our Grandfather a couple times.  Grandfather Mendez was a nice old guy, but we really could not communicate very well.  We did go to lunch one day at an old colonial restaurant.  Dione insisted that we have the specialty of the house, Pollo en Mole.  Chicken pieces boiled to tender and meat falling off the bone with the slightest touch.  It was smothered in Mole sauce that was very dark, thick and rich with chocolate and chile.  I never had Pollo en Mole like that before.  And with a cold XX, it was most memorable.  It was so memorable, in fact, that I remembered it yesterday when I had lunch again at La Cabana on

Golden State Ave.

in Bakersfield. 

I first discovered La Cabana in Bakersfield when I moved here in 1981.  They had a restaurant on

Oak Street

just north of Truxton in the 2 story brick building.  I remember being kind of lonely in Bakersfield before Betty moved out from Texas.  Between February 1980 and January 1981, I had left California and moved to Spokane, WA, got my job as a Mud Engineer and moved to Houaton, Texas, met Betty and transfered to Bakersfield.  There were not many restaurants in Bakersfield in 1981.  I had not discovered the Basque restaurants until years later.  I remember Mossman’s and Bill Lee’s though.  And La Cabana had great Mexican Food.  The restaurant on

Golden State Ave

, is small and unassuming.  The service is great and the staff makes you feel like you are at their home.  And the Pollo en Mole is the best I’ve had since the treat in Mexico City 31 years ago.  It was served with 2 pieces of chicken and lots of Mole sauce, rice and beans.  They did not provide a knife on the table, but the chicken was so tender, I could have pulled it apart with a feather.  It’s only $10.95 and plenty of food with the 4 flour tortillas and chips and salsa.  It’s a must have if you like Mexican Mole. 

Another memorable moment on my visit to Mexico City that time was coming home.  The flight got all screwed up and was scheduled to arrive about 9 PM.  My Dad was going to pick me in front of the airlines.  As it turned out I arrived on a completely different airline and landed on the opposite side of LAX at 2:00 in the morning.  Remember, there was no way to communicate back then once you left the house. It was raining when I walked out of the terminal and LAX was deserted.  I carried my luggage across the airport in the rain to where I was supposed to arrive and there was Dad’s station wagon parked in front of the terminal all alone.  He was sound asleep and had been waiting for me for hours just snoozing away.  I swear that guy can sleep anywhere.  I knew then how happy Derek was to see me and Dione in Mexico City.  Both Derek and I are really glad we made the trip to see Grandfather Mendez because he passed away about 3 years later and that was the only time we remember seeing him.