“Buenos dias, La Asuncion,” said the woman who answered the phone. I asked her what time the restaurant closes. Silence. I heard a bang and then two people rapidly talking in Spanish. In the background was the joyful bounce of conjunto music. “Buenos dias, La Ascuncion,” said a male voice. “What time does your restaurant close?” I queried again. “No hablo ingles. Nadie aqui hablo ingles,” he said. So I dusted off my college Spanish and said, ‘Vale, a que hora esta la restaurante cerrada?” He didn’t understand me, I reckon, because he just hung up the phone without saying a word. An excellent beginning, I thought. This Mexican restaurant is the real deal!
La Asuncion is a Mexican restaurant on Fort Hamilton Parkway marooned in a neighborhood that is predominantly Hasidic. Something told me it could be The One. And after a Mexican meal on Friday at the fancy-pants Crema, that had some highs:(the smooth, bacony refried black beans, the habanero salsa that could moonlight as a chili pepper bisque, and the beef tenderloin taco appetizer with its flavorful acquiescent chunks of meat),and some lows: (the much-touted chocolate cake that had an annoying, sandy crunch, the flavorless guacamole, the undercooked zucchini and the Styrofoam tortilla chips), all at Manhattan prices ($12 for a teaspoon of guac? $8 for chips and salsa? You’ve got to be kidding)—I was ready for some good cheap Mex.
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