Lessons in Spanish at El Paraiso
It’s a big thrill to see what comes out of the kitchen after nervously choosing an unusual menu item; often it’s something new and exciting, even if you don’t know exactly what the hell you ordered. At El Paraiso (4690 Harlan St., 303-480-0479), the adventurous eater is in for an even bigger jolt: Only one section of the massive menu offers the predictable tacos and burritos, the rest is a goofy playground of unexpected Mexican delights with few items translated to English.
The house especialidad is the parrillada, and though it’s closely associated with carnivorous Argentinian cuisine, at the typical gringo joint, it would most resemble an order of fajitas. Except that fajitas come to the table sizzling on a hot, little plate; a parrillada, instead, is a metal tray of gluttonous, meaty sin that arrives on a bed of glowing fucking coals.
Deciding what to get on the parrillada can be difficult, especially if Spanish isn’t a strong suit. The list of parrilladas at El Paraiso is long, each with a different combination of ingredients. And it isn’t all elementary-level Spanish “pollo” and “carne asada,” either. We’re talking molleja de ternera (fried sweetbreads) and cochinita pibil (a slow-roasted pork).
The “cielo, mar, y tierra” parrillada is pretty easy to suss out: grilled shrimp, steak, and chicken with onions and peppers. And also fried potatoes. And queso fundido. And soup. And house-made corn tortillas. When a serving “for one” arrives at the table, it’s almost laughable. A giant to-go box is inevitable.
The soup is spicy and bacon-y with tender white beans floating about. The steak is tough, but decent in a taco; the tortilla is mouth-meltingly good. The two huge pieces of chicken have a light, cinnamon-spicy flavor, and the shrimp and potatoes are good for snack-sized nibbles between the meatier bites. It’s new and exciting all right, but wear comfortable pants and take the afternoon off work. No one gets out of here awake.
