I had been following the developments of Cosme since I first read about the impending restaurant earlier in 2014. As soon as I learned that they were taking reservations for their October opening, I grabbed one for the first week. Spacious, with cement floors and industrial black pipes on the ceiling, I found Cosme to be uncongested. The table arrangement provided far more room in this restaurant than New Yorker's are used to when dining out. I also appreciated the individual spot lighting, allowing for a more private ambiance, and the planted cacti in Mexican pottery outfitting each table.
The restaurant's contemporary decor was intriguing, yes, but it was the food that took center stage. Victor, our waiter, was proud to tell my group, that Enrique Olvera's restaurant, Pujol in Mexico City, was "very famous." I knew that the owner and chef of Cosme had a fine international reputation, but enjoyed listening to this delightful man sing his bosses praises. He went on to elaborate on the fresh ingredients and the authenticity of each; "The corn is all grown in my country and used in almost every dish that we serve."
While beginning the meal with a few tasty drinks, including the classic Margarita, we polished off a few baskets of the over-sized homemade blue corn chips and spicy dipping sauce until our orders of fried, cheese-filled quesadillas arrived. Unlike the plate of flat, limp triangles often served elsewhere, these quesadillas were crisp, puffy, and oozing with quality cheese.
Although we were eager to try Mr. Olvera's take on guacamole, we were disappointed to learn that this was a bar-only item. Next time, we will have to stop at the front of the restaurant first. Moving ahead to an order of Burrata with Weeds - Victor said that "tonight's [Weeds] have a mix of dandelion, arugula and watercress" - we were ecstatic with how creamy and absolutely delicious the large ball of mozzarella was. For the main course, the guys had ordered simply prepared slices of filet that they said were perfection, served with shishito peppers, a bit of sauteed onions and an avocado and tarragon sauce. I tried a vegetarian version of the Barbacoa with small pieces of mushrooms and squash. When I asked about the Chilaquiles, a mélange that starts with fried corn tortilla chips at its core, my twenty-five year old nephew from California replied, "Well, this was the one thing that I recognized on the menu, so I ordered it, but it tastes nothing like what I am use to getting in LA." I smiled, pleased to have introduced to him to the gourmet version of this Mexican classic.