Patio Report: Alison Cook says Xochi in downtown is a thrilling adventure – Houston Chronicle

Enmoladas with fried eggs and queso fresco at Xochi

It all felt so normal, sitting out on the sun-dappled patio at Xochi on a recent Sunday afternoon.

Late-season roses popped from the lushly planted esplanades edging Discovery Green, silver-tipped grasses waving in the breeze. Children skipped alongside their parents on the way to the park. The musical chink of ice cubes rang from cocktail shakers wielded by some of the best-trained servers in the city.

The familiar staff faces were masked but recognizable, welcome crinkling at the corners of their eyes, nine months into Houstons complex dance with the pandemic and exactly a month since Xochi reopened after closing in March.

Guests were masked, too, as they entered and moved to their tables. So were the families passing by on the sidewalks; and the parking valets on the corner of McKinney and Crawford, near one of the entrances to the downtown Marriott hotel where Xochi lives, who took my car cheerfully, even when I explained to them I didnt have any cash for a tip.

Next time! said a guy who whizzed away on an electric scooter to marshal his forces.

1777 Walker, 713-400-3330.

Dinner & happy hour: 4-9 p.m. Wednesday-Thursday, 4-10 p.m. Friday-Saturday. Brunch: 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Sunday.

With only plastic in my pocket, I hadnt come prepared. I had already scoped out a Day of the Dead brunch that morning but passed it by when I saw the throng clustered outside. Too crowded for me, even outdoors. These days, I am seeking venues where outside tables are set apart; where theres good ventilation, lots of room and a staff well versed in safety procedures.

Xochi where I ended up on a sudden impulse filled that bill, and then some. The long, covered patio space running alongside McKinney Street had high, louvered ceilings, two rows of tables set reasonably apart, including a goodly number of two-tops for small parties. Ceiling fans churned the breezes let in on all sides.

It felt safe, unfriendly to COVID aerosols.

Not to mention that the setting was handsome, all dark woven chairs and tiny tabletop cacti and weatherized blinds rolled up to reveal the dazzling view. That verdant view alone could bring me here, so rare and welcome in a city where patio views often run to parking lots edged, if youre lucky, with a few plucky perimeter plantings.

I drank in all that sun and greenery, clutching my three, count them, three disposable paper menu sheets as if they were some rare and precious copy of the Dresden Codex. Ive always felt a bit overwhelmed by all the pages one gets at a Hugo Ortega establishment. Theres the regular menu, the happy hour menu, the seasonal special event menu, holiday menu on it goes, a cavalcade of choices.

Today, after nearly a year away from Xochi, I reveled in the options. Restaurants under chef Ortega and restaurateur Tracy Vaughts HTown group go long on service, allowing you to pick and choose a la carte from their various bills of fare, a civilized gesture. So I picked items from the brunch menu, that weekends Day of the Dead slate and their Houston Food Bank benefit $20 brunch menu.

I even ended up with some off-the-menu escamoles, those pearly, cushionly little orbs that are the Mexican answer to caviar. They arrived with lots of painterly drama: poised on black-corn tortillas, against glossy black plates and bursts of color: marigold, purslane, watermelon radish, bright green salsa albail.

Savoring the dish, after long months of home pantry cooking, I felt like a grownup again as if there were a world out there, full of mysteries, in which I might participate again some day.

A world full of miracles, too, like Carlos Chino Serranos latest cocktails. Its always difficult for me to pass up Serranos exquisitely balanced and beautiful Garden of the Pit, in which Mezcal and Oaxacan gin meet elderflower and lime, tinted in a dark flush of activated charcoal and tortilla ash, capped by snowy egg white and charcoal calligraphy.

But Serrano had an autumn surprise dreamed up, too: an as yet unnamed combo of Mezcal, cognac, Pimms, date pure and lime. Its warm ocher shade was echoed on the underside of its coupe glass by a dusting of turmeric with the Xochi name picked out in relief. I kept forgetting not to get my fingers in the turmeric, which was part of the entertainment for me, although I suspect this decorative detail may be in for retooling.

So captivating was this cocktail that the couple seated across from me inquired about it, and they ended up ordering one, too. It was one of the little social exchanges restaurants foster that made me feel like a part of the world again, too.

Ive been missing oysters in my seclusion, so I ordered a half-dozen of the wood-fired Ostiones al Lujo with a crackle of buttery bread crumbs and yellow mole lighting up the marine flavors, and a bed of magenta-tinted salt to set them off visually.

I wanted greens. They arrived in the theatrical form of ensalada de calabaza, in which a smoked squash (!) dressing outlined dark lettuces, apple slivers and crescents of roasted squash, with caramelized walnuts and blue cheese for pop. Dang, it was good.

So were my enmoladas, an elemental enchilada variant in which the tortillas were simply rolled in dusky pasilla-chile mole and folded up alongside sunnyside eggs with queso fresco, a shaved beet cornet, slabs of caramelized sweet plantain and a toasted hoja santa leaf as adornment. A simple basic idea in an elegant guise, one of the hallmarks of Ortegas cooking.

I even got a couple of items from the Day of the Dead menu to take out for later. Most spectacular was an Angus rib-eye grilled medium-rare, sauced with Xochis stirring mole negro and escorted by a knotty pan de muerto, its sweet dough swirled with a huitlacoche glaze.

That was the kind of brilliant idea that has always kept me eager to see what Ortega and his gifted team will dream up next.

It made me thrilled all over again to be in Houston, on the patio of one of the citys best restaurants, and for the moment fully alive.

food@chron.com

Alison Cook - a two-time James Beard Award winner for restaurant criticism and an M.F.K. Fisher Distinguished Writing award recipient - has been reviewing restaurants and surveying the dining scene for the Houston Chronicle since 2002.

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Patio Report: Alison Cook says Xochi in downtown is a thrilling adventure - Houston Chronicle