One of my most treasured meals in the fair city of Berkeley came from a taco truck that would claim a spot at the south entrance to campus, where a constant flow of foot traffic funnels staff, students and passersby through Sather Gate to the bounty of academia beyond. Whenever I found myself between classes and work shifts, stranded on the south side with a hunger borne more of vacancy than appetite, I would exchange three dollars for two corn husk-wrapped bundles of pork, salsa verde and steamed masa that could send me to class with the well-rounded satisfaction that only an honest tamal can provide.

During those paper tray meals on the steps of the student union, I concluded that honest tamales, like good tacos, could never be served in restaurants. Nor, I decided, could they ever cost more than $1.50. The sheer simplicity of certain foods demands an adherence to form that cannot be dressed up or overpriced to anyone’s benefit, least of all my own.

Leave it to my favorite restaurant in Los Angeles to prove me wrong. At West LA’s Monte Alban, a juggernaut of Oaxacan flavors rolled into a modest corner of Santa Monica strip mall, the appetizers menu offers two types of chicken tamales. The tamal de salsa, priced at $2.75, resembles the kind of tamal you would buy from a woman on the street, reaching into her portable cooler for the goods with one hand while keeping ahold of her five year old daughter with the other. Its mundane appearance, however, betrays the distinct joys within. Unlike most tamales, this one has a pleasantly firm crust of hardened, almost crisp masa, not unlike the edges of a well made cornbread. The body of the tamal is weightless, melting in the mouth as a fleeting vessel of flavor. Flavor, of course, is at the core of the entree: a blend of chicken, tomato, spices, and mint that could humbly redefine a taste bud’s relations with the color red.

All of this, however, is merely a prelude to the main masa event: Monte Alban’s tamal de mole. Peeling back the dark banana leaf wrapping of this Oaxacan gift reveals what appears to be a small marble cake. A side of mole poblano, a blend of chocolate, nuts, spices and peppers stewed and distilled into a rich aphrodisiac, sits next to the tamal, ready to bless the holy appetizer like an edible ablution. With one stroke of the fork, mole steeped cornmeal crumbles to uncover a perfectly apportioned layer of juicy shredded chicken in its folds. When all of the elements come together, they result in a tamal experience so rich that if it were on the street, it would have to be served from a portable cooler made of a solid, gold rimmed granite idol’s head. In the parking lot graces of Monte Alban, though, a plastic plate will do. After all, even at $3.75, this is still an honest tamal.

Monte Alban
11927 Santa Monica Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90025
310.444.7736

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 30th, 2008 at 10:51 pm and is filed under Los Angeles, Oaxacan, Street Food.