by Steven Hacker
When I called Bruce Ucan, chef-owner of the Mayan Cafe, after visiting his new
Fortunately for
Mayan Cafe is a small space with sky-blue walls. It feels bright and airy during lunch hours and takes on a different feel for dinner, when wine glasses appear on the tables and music comes over the sound system. I think Mayan Cafe is “Mexican” only because that’s where Ucan’s palate happened to arrive on Earth; in reality, he’s an exceptional example of how taste trumps territory. He brings
“A regular customer of mine went to Cancun,” said Ucan. “He told me he went everywhere and he couldn’t get food like mine. I told him, ‘You can’t find it; it’s an idea I’ve created. I take from the
Case in point: one of my favorite side dishes, roasted lima beans with sesame oil and lime (served as Tok-Cel at the Gypsy). I always assumed it was a Mayan dish — until Ucan told me that limas aren’t a
Mayan Cafe’s chili relleno ($4), a juicy, dark poblano chile stuffed with a chunky paste of chorizo, corn, potatoes and manchego cheese, is pan-seared, not fried in egg batter like “traditional” Mexican versions. Ucan believes “the fried flour and egg take over the chile. I don’t want you to taste fried, I want to taste chile.” I concur: The unbreaded pepper’s flavor definitely stands out against the mild spice and light cream sauce. A Mayapan chilaquile ($13) was different than the heavy cream versions I’ve had in other “Mexican” restaurants — its light sauce served as background to the flavors of portobello, asparagus and masa (although I could have done without the zucchini).
Lunch offerings included my huevos Motulenos ($9), with layers of fried tortilla, black beans, chorizo and plantains that swam in a tomato sauce that, while spicy, still didn’t overpower the dish’s delicately fried eggs. A gigantic sandwich of oven-roasted pork ($8) had a cayenne sauce that didn’t linger or burn, but simply enhanced the tender shreds of meat.
I loved the Cactus Salad with mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and citrus vinaigrette ($5, at both lunch and dinner). The cactus had an okra-esque quality, exploring that little-known boundary between crunchy and slippery. Ucan said, “When we cooked the cactus in water, it became slippery; when we broiled it, it became dry. Finally, I found that putting it on the grill and searing it with olive oil lets the cactus keep its own juice and gets rid of the slimy at the
same time.”
For my money, the chef’s piece de resistance could well be his marvelous roasted leg of lamb ($15). The smoky, meltingly soft lamb came with a sweet-and-sour tamarind sauce, an idea Ucan says came to him “when we were serving duck and thought it would work well with lamb.” To me, it’s an inspired form of barbecue. (
Desserts were less impressive. My Chocolate Volcano ($6) was a little grainy, and while my banana churro with chocolate sauce ($5) was better, it was too sweet and a bit mushy. The accompanying ice creams (mango and banana) were more memorable.
“I don’t want an authentic place; I want a good place,” said Ucan. His Mayan Cafe is authentic, all right — authentically good.
If You Go
Mayan Cafe,

