La Casa de Disaster - Revised

(Written for the Jackson Citizen Patriot)


Upon entering the month old La Casa de Rodriguez, the diner is greeted by one of four Jacksonian girls. All look no older than college age, and are eager to sit you down and get you started.

La Casa advertises “authentic” Mexican and Tex Mex cuisine on the establishment’s web page. This makes La Casa Jackson’s second take on Mexican cuisine, as we are also home to Los Tres Amigos. 

La Casa is located on Wildwood Avenue, in the building formerly home to a failed ice cream and hotdog shop. It’s sign stands out, which is good because it’s building is hidden between two other businesses. While Wildwood is common stomping grounds to those in need of a car repair or on their way to the airport, Jacksonians searching for a bite may easily pass over La Casa.

Even if a driver does happen upon La Casa, they would be better served to stick with the old, and say out with the new.

Looking from the walk-up cash register and kitchen area next to the door, a few potted plants separate the dining area from the empty, tiled “lobby.” Though snow covers the one row of cars found outside the two windows of la Casa’s dining room, patrons may be transported to a summer picnic scene via tasteless plastic red and white checkered table cloths covering each table. Picnics are meant to stay outside, and plastic tablecloths are better served at the children’s table at family gatherings. Mismatching chairs make a customer wonder whether to turn and run.

Salsa music is barely heard over the roar of the kitchen, which makes little sense after seeing just one cook. Nothing, save the restaurant’s still under-construction website, screams “authentic.”  Maybe the Eduardo Fuss and Diego Rivera plastic framed pictures hanging strategically between windows.

The scene is that of older couples searching for a quick bite. With waitresses running from table to table, the nicest of which is in training, a diner immediately senses the urgency of the typical American meal; cheap and fast. Turn and run.

Patrons may wish to begin their meal with unlimited chips and salsa, but should not expect a refill. Maybe they will be asked again when the food has arrived and they are no longer necessary. The salsa choices are two, hot and mild, and resemble nothing more than a watery store bought can of  Pace or Chi Chi’s. Not horrible though, free as it is. The hot salsa holds quite a kick. It leaves the tongue tingly and begging for water, which is a reminder that the complimentary water has yet to be refilled.

If the customer is feeling adventurous or simply wishes to make up for the lack of a tortilla chip refill, they can order an appetizer. Chicken filled flautas may spike their interest, but remember to ask for them extra hot or you may just end up with lukewarm. Mexican egg rolls are also offered as part of the appetizer menu, and upon the arrival of the flautas, a patron may wonder if the chef has gotten them confused. Wrapped as tightly as an egg roll would be, the four rolls are covered in a spicy salsa and overpowered with onions. Opting for a fork and knife, the fluffy fried layers fall apart when cut and the center is lukewarm at best.

Upon ordering entrees, do not expect to know what you will be eating, though a brief description is included on the menu. Waitresses do not know the difference between a chimichanga and a wet burrito. Maybe the waitresses haven’t had time to learn, or maybe most customers don’t feel the need to ask, they just want to get in and out.

The dinner menu is vast and after some contemplation, orders may be made. Make sure you remember it’s name though, because you are bound to be asked again and again. “Sir, did you want chicken or beef in the chimichanga,” or “Miss, did you say hot or mild salsa?”

When as last a customer makes an order, the food will be out before the menu has been closed. Maybe for this credit is due. Many Americans are looking for a quick bite, and so this would satisfy most customers, older couples on date night not looking to spend much time with their partner.

Maybe due to the quickness of the food preparation, the entrees are also cold. Though a waitress would not know the answer, it can only be imagined that the main ingredient, for the beef in particular, is salt. Only a few bites can be withstood before trying desperately to slurp up what water is left beneath the ice. The salt does not allow for great food intake, and with a full belly upon leaving La Casa, it again feels empty just an hour later. It is an experience much like quickly devouring American Chinese food covered in soy sauce.

If you opt for the chicken route, better luck may follow. Though thin cuts, the blackened grilled chicken breast has great flavor. Similar to fajitas, but with a fancier name and housed under the “traditional Mexican dishes” menu, Carne a la Parilla lacked a skillet and common veggie fixings. Grilled onions served as a satisfactory side as well as refried beans and rice mixed with peas and carrots. (Again, much like eating browned Chinese rice!) 

The beef wet burrito and chimichanga tasted similar save a tortilla versus a fluffed and crunchy outer shell, respectively. A simple beef taco completed  the “choose your own three” entree. For those feeling like reliving their college cafeteria days, give this dish a try.

All in all, La Casa seems yet another Jackson trend. Once the few who actively and often take Wildwood Avenue have tried and been disappointed by the Mexican cuisine, it will be yet another failed small business endeavor. Non-strategically located, and with a fierce competitor in Los Tres Amigos, La Casa’s days are numbered.