Philadelphia Weekly

Once upon a time, Mexican food was uncommon in this neck of Penn's woods. Growing up, my experience was limited to my seventh birthday party at the Deptford Mall Chi-Chi's. Later years brought Tequilas and El Vez. Maybe you could find a decent taco al pastor if you knew where to look. Once upon a time.

Thinking back to those dark ages is like trying to imagine life before DVR. Since then the hard-working dishwashers and prep cooks have graduated to their own kitchens. The question no longer is whether you can find tacos al pastor, but whose you dig most.

Lately I'm feeling my loyalties sway. Paxia, latest in the camp of classed-up-but-not-watered-down Mexican spots, makes a serious case with its pork-y-pi�a tango: a golden pineapple doubloon flanked by two tender grilled chops smothered in a husky vermilion guajillo sauce that purrs with garlic, cinnamon, cilantro and cloves.

True, Paxia's pastor isn't taco-style--though the young staff is so accommodating I'm sure they'd bring you some warm homemade tortillas if you asked. Those very tortillas become the deep-fried chips that, with grassy salsa verde and smoky salsa rojo, open each meal at this hardwood floor-and-drop-ceiling sandwich decorated with Mexican figurines, abode pottery and woven Aztec tapestries.

Mexican music floats through the room, over tables of Bella Vista youngbloods and BYOT first dates breaking the ice with refreshing watermelon margaritas--a pitcher of classic lime is free when everyone orders an entree--and guacamole for two.

It's a familiar scene in Philly. If the Italian BYOB owned the '90s and the gastropub strummed our heartstrings for the next half-decade, then the present clearly belongs to the Mexican restaurant. Add Paxia to the depth chart, even if chef Ismael Torres, who owns Paxia with brother-in-law Dionicio Jimenez is still finding his footing.

They were out of dinner items on both my visits, as well as the coconut milk coffee I was psyched to try. One minute they had agua Jamaica; the next, they didn't. Instead I sipped a tamarindo that could've given me a cavity.

Soggy chicharrones weighed down the fluffy, crema-streaked gordita, and too much guajillo sauce (similar to the pastor's, with a soupcon of cumin) overwhelmed the tres crepas appetizer, three triangular crepes respectively filled with silky goat cheese, sweet corn-and-zucchini blossom and heady huitlacoche, the inky corn fungus prized for its truffle-esque essence.

The vuelve la vida ceviche surged with shrimp, mackerel, surimi (the artificial crabstick popular in Mexico City), Pacific oysters and New Zealand mussels. The bivalves were slimy and large, and the super-sweet marinade tasted like V8 mixed with Sunny D.

Those items aside, Paxia delivered, from the creamy, cotija-dusted guac to the uber-moist tres leches and silky cocoa mousse topped with a swirl of cinnamony Mexican dark chocolate. Flaky as pie crust, the house-made empanadas' lips bared avocado smiles with shrimp, crabmeat, surimi and pico de gallo hidden inside the pillowy pastry.

Torres really hits his stride with the hearty, flavorful, fill-you-up-right entrees: falling-apart lamb shoulder barbacoa served in a corn husk; the pork chops pastor; and arrachera, ribbons of grilled beefy skirt steak served with guacamole, fiery creamed Poblano peppers and tortillas for DIY taco assembly.

The steak arrived with a bulbous, hollowed-out zucchini filled with bacon, jalape�os, squash blossoms and corn, sprinkled with parmesan cheese and broiled crispy, as well as a mini chicken enchilada topped with mole so chocolatey it could've been a dessert.

The mar y tierra brocheta brought shrimp, chicken and perfectly medium-rare cubes of filet mignon speared with onions, pineapple, plantains, tomatoes and Poblanos on a long metal skewer. Simple and delicious on their own; better dipped in the peanut-infused coffee traditional to Mexico City. The sauce was so aromatic and earthy, you could almost taste the dirt the nuts and beans grew from.

Paxia isn't perfect, but there's more than enough merit to land it a spot in your starting rotation.