El Calderon, located on Calderon Avenue in a residential neighborhood in Mountain View, is removed from the downtown restaurant district, and perhaps this is the secret to its long-running success.Untroubled by the Castro Street bustle, the Mexican/Salvadoran restaurant has only its own warmth, ambience and menu to work with -- and with proprietor Angela Lopez at the helm these 39 years, that's been more than enough.
On a recent Saturday evening, for instance, patrons lined up outside waiting for a table, and it's easy to see why: Lopez's heartfelt personality and home-style cuisine have kept the fans coming back. On our first visit, the diminutive Lopez spent several minutes chatting with us after our meal was finished. She pointed out family members in the photo collage that spans an entire wall by the front door, including her grandson who currently serves as a Marine in Iraq. Military service runs in the family -- her husband was a Marine when she first met him in the 1950s at Camp Pendleton.
A crowd constantly gathers around Lopez. "Goodnight, Mama," a grey-haired woman calls out as her family heads for the door. You feel as if you're sitting in someone's living room.
"We love people; otherwise we wouldn't have a restaurant," Lopez said.
They love food, too. Not counting the chips (a dry store-bought variety) the dishes that crowded our table were large, warm and delicious.
We began on the Mexican side of the menu with chicken enchiladas ($10.95). They hit the spot, swimming in a mild enchilada sauce and covered with melted cheese on a plate so packed not a square inch peeked through. (None of El Calderon's selections are spicy. When asked about the picante level, our waitress pointed to the salsa and advised, "You do it yourself.") Like all El Calderon meals, the enchiladas came with a mound of rice, refried beans topped with melted cheese, and a small lettuce salad dribbled with French dressing.
Our chicken chimichanga ($8.95) offered a dramatic presentation. Rather than wrapping shredded chicken, onion, cheese and chili mole like a burrito, the cook pulls back one edge of the flour tortilla to form a large, crunchy lip. It was fun to eat.
Beef steak ranchero ($13.95), a Salvadoran special, is sauteed chunks of rib-eye steak with sliced tomatoes, green peppers and onion in a mild tomato sauce spiced with oregano and chili mole. Large slices of ripe avocado were arranged on top of this fresh-tasting entree.
The weather had grown chilly on our second visit, so a bowl of soup sounded good. We discovered perfect comfort food in caldo de camarones ($10.50), a steaming bowl with large prawns, slices of cabbage, carrots, potatoes, zucchini, celery, squash and half a corncob in a golden vegetable broth. Served with tortillas and a small bowl of rice on the side, it was hearty yet light.
We couldn't resist the Salvadoran dinner for two ($25.95). It kicked off with pupusas: thick corn tortillas (freshly made with every order) stuffed with cheese and beans melted into a wonderful concoction. Up next came the plantanos fritos, in which sliced fried plantains circled a bed of refried beans with sour cream squiggled over all. A platter of yucca con chicharrones followed, with crisply fried pork, sliced boiled yucca root, tomato, onion and cabbage simmered in a chili mole sauce with garlic and lemon.
In addition, native Salvadoran fruit drinks rendered from tamarind and guava arrived in half gourds, along with small portions of coleslaw and a bowl of guacamole (truly little more than mashed avocado). Just when we were about to burst, the waitress brought a cup of Salvadoran coffee and a dessert made of tortilla chips in a yummy sauce that tasted like apple pie and cinnamon.
"Oh honey, when some of my customers first came, they were 30 years old," Lopez said with a chuckle. "Now they're 70 and they still come." I believe her. Most probably call her "mama" too.
