The last time I was at Ninfa’s, now Tio Javi’s, it was a night to remember—or forget, depending on one’s perspective of rowdy bacchanals.
That was probably 15 years ago. I pass this popular Tex-Mex joint, visible from Interstate 10 and tucked off College Drive, almost daily, yet I never give it more than a passing glance. Since that (ill-)fated night many years ago, I’ve neither avoided nor sought out this establishment.
When the local Ninfa’s changed its name to Tio Javi’s and rejuvenated its menu to highlight new offerings, I decided it was high time to pay it another visit.
|
|
|
WHY REVIEW NOW? Ninfa’s was a local tradition. It was rebranded as Tio Javi’s last fall, so we wanted to see if it remained true to its well-loved menu while adding a new take.
WHAT’S A MUST? The Flaming Shrimp Gigante. It’s a spectacle of pyrotechnics at your table, but the sweet taste surpasses the gimmick.
I’m unsure if the interior has been updated, but I found it brightly colored without being garish. One thing the restaurant should update is the seating. The cushioned bench at our table was torn in several places, with stuffing poking out of the gashes.
We quickly forgot about the seating with the arrival of complimentary tortilla chips and three different salsas, including a green dip of tomatillos, avocado and cilantro that should be familiar to Ninfa’s devotees. There was also a slightly piquant red salsa and a crudito of pickled vegetables that included jalapeños, carrots, red chilies and onions. All were interesting and atypical of what’s usually served at Tex-Mex establishments, but the crudito was particularly addictive.
One cannot live on chips and dips alone, so we ordered the Spicy Tuna Tostada (a new dish) and the Ceviche as appetizers. The fried tostada was unyielding and very greasy. But the tuna, raw and spiced with chilies and chipotle cream along with chopped avocado, was reminiscent of a Japanese salad. It was a pleasant dish without the tostada. The Ceviche was incredibly tart and tasted mostly of citric acid. The combination of shrimp, red snapper and avocado lacked the usual nuance of flavors in traditional ceviches.
We had scarce time to complete our appetizers before the entrees arrived. Another new dish, the Flaming Shrimp Gigante, was quite the spectacle. Our server lit a skewer of shrimp doused in grain alcohol. The shrimp was engulfed in flames, drawing exclamations and stares from our table and those nearby. The shrimp, served with mild yellow rice and my choice of charro beans, were sweet and juicy even after the additional flame-cooking. The beans were a delicious mixture of pintos, chopped green peppers and pimento in a sauce that was more creamy than brothy.
We also tried the Quail, a dish rarely seen on local menus. In Tio Javi’s version, the marinade added seasoning and abundant moisture. Char from the grill added flavor, making this dish a simple yet appetizing choice.
A particularly zesty dish was Redfish Veracruz. The fish included a tomato sauce, with olives and capers adding salty/briny notes while the pickled carrots added texture and subtle crunch. The flavors were bold without being aggressive. The fish came with the same yellow rice as our flaming shrimp. We tried refried beans on the side but decided we preferred the charro beans.
The server could barely get out the words “Would anyone like…” before one friend exclaimed, “Sopapillas, yes!” You can request one or three sopapillas for dessert at Tio Javi’s, and so colossal was the order of three that it should have come with a warning. The serving was large enough for our table of four and the next table. Flaky, crispy, sugary cinnamon goodness with a final flourish of whipped cream, the sopapillas were some of the best I’ve had.
Our server also suggested the Chocolate Banana. Similar to empanadas but with sliced bananas, it was delectable and mildly sweet. The dessert was a welcome contrast to the sopapillas, served with vanilla ice cream and copious whipped cream sprinkled with chocolate chips.
Our congenial server made several food recommendations, but when asked specifics, she had to admit that she had tried very little on the menu. That a restaurant would expect its front-line employees to sell products they haven’t tried was disconcerting.
|
|
|
With the restaurant nearly full, we were not alone for our Tuesday night dinner. Baton Rougeans continue to have a love affair with this place even after the name change. Our table had more of a fleeting romance with Tio Javi’s; it had definite highs and a few lows, but the affair eventually ran its course.
Tio Javi’s Fresh Mex Bar & Grill
4738 Constitution Ave.
924-0377
Opens every day at 11 a.m.
tiojavis.com
Our food critic’s name may be false, but the credentials are not. This gastronome has studied the history, cultivation, preparation, science and technology of food for more than 30 years.