The display of automotive pulchritude outside downtown San Antonio’s newly opened Monarch Hotel can be impressive.
On a recent visit, I hazarded a guess that at least some of the occupants of the Porsches, Maseratis and even a Rolls-Royce were headed to Oak & Amber, the hotel’s flagship street-level venue featuring an open hearth and a “robust steak menu” along with caviar.
However, my dining guests and I were headed for the 17th floor and Aleteo — more of an intermediate, Audi kinda place with an advertised Yucatecan theme.
The views to both east and west are truly special; the two flanking sides consist of a bar and an open kitchen. The space is dominated by ersatz árboles draped in a variety of suspended light fixtures. The trees give the space a festive, backyard-in-Mérida aspect. If you have a good imagination.
Though the Yucatecan cast was advertised in early publicity, it seemed to have already been soft-pedaled by the time of our visit. I had been looking forward to a pepita-based sikil pak dip, but it had been replaced by the decidedly Tex-Mex Queso Aleteo. The only important difference, besides price ($24), from a local rendition was a scattering of pristine picadillo that contributed little. That and baskets brimming with crisp chicharron and really good tortilla chips.
It might seem ridiculous to rhapsodize about chips, but they also almost overshadowed another house dip, the Fire Roasted Red Pepper. What to say: the texture was plush, there was a pleasant smokiness about the taste, and there were accessories of pomegranate seeds and tiny Marcona almonds. Yet the end result was nothing special.
The menu’s Raw & Cured section fared better. Though the ceviche, served in a thin, coconut leche de tigre, wasn’t notably bountiful, the snapper and shrimp at least whispered of the sea. A plate of yellowfin tuna, fresh and punctuated with bits of puckery yuzu and a splash of chile oil, took the whisper to a murmur.
A lime, grapefruit and soda mocktail titled Paloma Santificada, with an abundance of pink peppercorns and an undertow of rosemary syrup, was refreshing on its own and downright exuberant with the seafood.
Nothing on the Starters list suggests the Yucatán. A since-86ed fried-carrot mole with chicatana ants may have scared off the Audiphiles.
Aleteo’s Mains section has also shed cochinita pibil, the only traditionally Yucatecan item on the early menu. So that left us with black garlic skirt steak, tomahawk chuleta and grilled whole — mostly, anyway — sea bream.
The skirt may run $47, but it was the best version of this unassuming cut I have eaten in recent memory. Grilled to a perfect medium rare and not a minute more, the meat was crusty, the flavor deeply beefy, and the side of salsa blanca — whipped garlic, coriander and vinegar — made a welcome booster. Fresh corn, its kernels almost popping with delight, was far more than a colorful bit player.
Coming in second was the pork chuleta — again, perfectly cooked to pork standards. The faintest blush of pink was still apparent. Thoughtfully sliced from the bone, the prodigious chop was faintly suggestive of earthy achiote — at least part of the Yucatecan flavor pantheon. More of the grilled pineapple in an accompanying salsa would be appreciated.
Split and boned, the sea bream flaunted a perfectly crisp skin and a flaky texture that would be the envy of many home cooks. It’s a mild fish, though, so it needed the fruity South American aji amarillo and a generous squeeze of lime. An excellent tequila and mezcal Oaxaca Old Fashioned played nicely as well.
In honor of both Mexico and Texas, we tried the Abuelita pecan pie for dessert. Abuelita merits a capital A because it’s a brand of Mexican chocolate with a grainy texture and cinnamon undertones. The chocolate appeared judiciously in a filling that could have used a few more pecans.
The evening wrapped up with Xocolatl. This name references the chocolate the Yucatecan Maya consumed in astonishing quantities, according to early historians. Aleteo employed it in chocolate mousse layered with a strangely crumbly version of devil’s food cake. A grainy texture throughout suggested Abuelita again. A scoop of mildly flavored corn ice cream adorned the confection. Good try, but I first had this in Mérida, Yucatán’s capital, many years ago, and I recall a more assertively corny flavor — actual kernels even populated the scoop.
So, would I wash my not-a-Lamborghini and go back? Weighing good entrees against indifferent dips and desserts, maybe no time soon. Though there is that view…
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