The Search for Cemitas: El Delfin Jr.

Ever since the closure of the great but short-lived Pal Cabron, I've lost my best neighborhood source of cemitas...the Mexican sandwiches served on sweet bread. Since then, I vowed to search for other options for my Koreatown cemitas habit, which mostly means checking out the local food trucks.

One of the most visible cemitas trucks, El Delfin Jr. can regularly be found on the south side of Wilshire by the old Ambassador hotel site. The neon-orange truck serves cemitas, clayudas, tortas, tacos and burgers.

Why it's named with the Spanish word for dolphin, I don't know. While there is a small picture of a dolphin, the truck's main logo appears to be an unfortunately Hootersesque picture of a woman with cemitas where her shirt should be. Pal Cabron had its share of strangely drawn busty women as well. Something about cemtias seems to bring out mammary fixations.

They didn't have pork milanesa, so I ordered the cemita de milaensa de res (beef). It was served in the fairly standard manner with quesillo, papalo, avocado, a nice tangy salsa with pickled peppers on the side so you can add them to your taste (which for me means they all go in).

It was not bad, but it didn't measure up to the Pal Cabron standard, mostly due to the bread and meat. In contrast to the Cabron's puffy, perfectly textured, freshly baked rolls, the Delfin's roll was a sad, flat, stale piece of bread. The milanesa itself was thin, overly chewy and lacking in distinctive flavor. That being said, the overall flavor on the sandwich was not bad due to plenty of papalo, a really nice red salsa and the aforementioned pickled peppers. Still, bread and meat are the essential components of a cemita and you can't do that well if you're missing them. It's like messing up on the triple axle in an Olympic figure skating competition; you lose a lot of points.

So on we go...

RIP Pal Cabron

I am saddened to report on yet another restaurant closing in my neighborhood. Pal Cabron opened with much fanfare and seemed destined for success. It was a spinoff of the popular Guelaguetza Oaxacan restaurant and it had fabulous cemitas, including my favorite La Muy Muy, a pork milanesa with pickled peppers, quesillo and the papalo herb on a big, fresh sweet bun. I was seriously obsessed with this place for several months after it opened.

I still need my neighborhood cemita fix so I guess I better start checking out the local cemitas trucks.

Rest in peace cabron.

My Pal Cabron and His Cemitas

Back when I was first learning Spanish and working in Dallas, I was intending to order tacos al carbon but instead ordered "tacos al cabron" which led to a laugh riot among the restaurant staff and my co-workers. Cabron, as I later learned, is a sometimes-curse word in Spanish. It's one of those words that is hard to translate, but the polite translation would probably be something akin to macho man or, really, macho shit-head. The cabron is the guy with more machismo than sense.

Pa'l Cabron, near as I can tell, is an abbreviation for para el cabron, a restaurant for the Macho shit head. The restaurant was founded by the owners of the popular Oacacan mini-chain Guelaguetza and originally opened in Huntington Park but has migrated to the location of the original Guelaguetza on 8th Street west of Irolo.

The cabron theme is apparent in both the decor and the cuisine. The walls are decorated with mini-comics, sort of like the bottom of the page illustrations in Mad Magazine, showing the bearded, pot-bellied cabron in various absurd situations, like running over pedestrians in his car while he day dreams about cemitas. And while I tried to ignore the sketches of absurdly large breasted women, it's hard not to like the portrait of the cabron wrestling two donkey piñatas, a painting that is flanked by two mounted donkey piñata heads (presumably showing that the cabron won that fight).

The cuisine is casual food. Tlayudas, the Oaxacan pizzas, are offered here as they are at Guelaguetza, but the highlight at Pal Cabron is the cemitas. Cemitas are Mexican sandwiches, much like tortas but served on Mexican sweet bread instead of a white roll. The cemitas at Pal Cabron are unbelievable good, and once I started going there for a cemitas lunch, it was hard to stop.



La Muy Muy, a pork milanesa cemita (all of the sandwiches have cute little names) was probably the best milanesa sandwich I've ever had and I'm a huge fan of milanesa. Pounded, breaded, deep fried pork with queso fresco, avocado, quesillo (Oaxacan string cheese), papalo (a Central American herb with a sort of arugala like bite) and a choice of the sweet chipotle ketchup like sauce or tangy pickled jalapeños (both are great). The pork cutlet was painfully good, with the right balance of crunch and tenderness...I wanted another one right away! Mark my word, this is one of LA's greatest sandwiches.

The La De Barbacha is advertised as a lamb sandwich but tastes more like goat; perhaps it is mutton. Stewed in a red sauce, it has a nice gamey taste similar to the popular Oaxacan goat soups.

I also enjoyed La Cabrona, a sandwich which combines a beef milanesa and a few slices of head cheese. While the beef milanesa is not quite as rich as the pork, the head cheese gives it a nice smoky, ham flavor.

As anyone who loves Langer's or Bay Cities can tell you, a sandwich is only as good as its bread, and the bread on these cemitas is part of the beauty of the sandwich. They are made on huge, round, sesame studded rolls baked fresh at the restaurant. The rolls are crisp and crunchy on the outside and soft within. The crunch of the crust is an essential part of the gestalt that makes these sandwiches so amazing.

While they didn't all reach the heights of the pork milanesa, every sandwich I had at Pal Cabron was great. I'm not kidding, the first time I went to Pal Cabron, I felt compelled to return the next day. The place is addictive, and I can see how you could end up with a belly like the pictured cabron.

Pal Cabron
3337 1/2 W. 8th Street (where the original Guelaguetza was)
Los Angeles, CA 90005
(213) 427-0601

Mid-Town Mole: Beyond Guelaguetza

As residents know, Koreatown is also Oaxacatown, and includes a large concentration of immigrants from that Southern Mexican state. For most people who frequent Chowhound or Yelp, Guelaguetza is the go-to place for Oaxacan, both the original storefront on 8th Street and the grander restaurant in the pagoda roofed building on Olympic. Guelaguetza, which also has a westside outlet under different ownership, is the standard by which most Angelenos judge the wonderfully complex cuisine of Oaxaca.

But there is a whole world of Oaxacan cuisine beyond the now legendary Guelaguetza, mostly made up of small, family-owned dives which serve excellent food. And that's the thing about Oaxacan cuisine...I can't say I've really had a bad meal at any of the places I've gone to. The places, which all have similar menus, uniformly put out good food with complex spicing and tasty results.

Mole is, of course, the most known of the Oaxacan specialties (and other states of Mexico have their own moles as well). In its chocolatey black form or its nutty red, it coats chickens and tortillas in various dishes. Meats tend to be heavily spiced like cecina (spice rubbed pork) and chorizo, and are served with the salty string cheese quesillo on so many botano (appetizer) plates. And then there are the Clayudas/Tlyudas, giant pizza-like amalgams of refried black beans, cheese and one or more of the aforementioned meats baked together with sliced cabbage on a crisp tortilla.

So, what is there beyond Guelaguetza?

La Morenita de Oaxaca
3550 W. 3rd St.
(3rd and New Hampshire-SW Corner)

La Morenita cooks up a spicy mole. Their red and black moles are much less sweet and thick than what you may be used to. They opt, instead, for some heat, which is a nice change of pace. But my favorite thing at La Morenita are the Tlyudas, which are the best I've had. Smaller than the behemoths available at Guelaguetza, La Morenita's Tlyudas are crisp, with wonderfully smoky/porky beans and can be ordered con todo, topped with tasajo (a dried beef), cecina, chorizo and quesillo, the Tlyuda equivalent of a Pizza Hut Supreme. The flavors meld beautifully and the final product is a good step above the typical LA Tlyuda.


Flor de Piña (Rio Cajonos)
834 S. Vermont Ave.
(South of Wilshire)

The name on the outside says Flor de Piña, but the name on the menus is Rio Cajonos. Black mole was good, though not the best, but the accompanying chorizo was fabulous. Emptied from its casing, the chorizo was crisp on the outside and had great flavor. Excellent homemade corn tortillas to accompany.


Antequera de Oaxaca
5200 Melrose Avenue
(at Wilton - SW Corner)

I've been going to Antequera de Oaxaca since it opened several years ago. This small, family run joint in a high ceilinged room which looks like they never quite converted it from whatever it used to be (furniture store? lamp shade emporium?) has never disappointed. The meats and moles rival those of the big G, but most people seem to order the botanos...combo plates of thick corn memelas topped with beans, well executed guacamole, the standard Oaxacan meats and maybe even an enchilada or two.

All in all, the state of Oaxacan cuisine in mid-City LA is good. So, enjoy the music, dance shows and mezcal at Guelaguetza, but venture out as well. You won't regret it.