Pickled red onions, sliced avocados, and crispy tortillas smothered in spicy salsa. These are the images that used to pop into my head when I thought of the family of Mexican brunch restaurants known as Cocina 35.
1201 1st St., Coronado
I recall the first time I encountered their chilaquiles, down by the Otay Border crossing, at a location they were still calling La Loteria at the time. Eventually, they would settle on the Cocina 35 branding established in Cortez Hill ten years ago, and use it to open several locations. But already in 2017 they were calling their chilaquiles the best in San Diego, and you could see the makings of a colorful aesthetic at work, both in the presentation of their food, an in the decor of an otherwise humble cafeteria setting.
Calling anything "the best," invites debate. However memorable, I don't necessarily agree their chilaquiles to be the city's best, mostly because I prefer a denser corn tortilla under all the salsa, eggs, and other chilaquiles pile-ons.
However, with their newest location, I don't think there's a better place in all of So Cal to enjoy chilaquiles with a view.
From the dining room of Cocina 35 Brunch, freshly opened in Coronado, diners enjoy a sweeping look across San Diego Bay at downtown in all its skyscraping glory. That's because the Cocina 35 team is now in possession of the magnificent picture window view previously beheld by Coronado institution Costa Azul, which ended its long run in September.
Immediately outside the window pass pedestrians, dogs, and bikes enjoying a bayside walk beside the Coronado Ferry Landing, but the sky, the ocean, and the city skyline dominate the restaurant's dining room in ways one might never except from a Mexican breakfast dish originally conceived to make use of day-old corn tortillas.
And while most restaurants might be content to let that view dominate, Cocina 35 has seen fit to counter it with a whimsical twist, outfitting the space with pink Bougainvillea, twisted into tree shapes that inject vibrant color regardless of what the weather is doing outside. Color that matches the food, you might say.
Chilaquiles don't make up the entire Cocina 35 menu, just most of it. They offer five different salsas of varying spice levels, plus a sixth "secreto" salsa that combines the serrano chili verde salsa with the creamy habanero. To that you can opt to add any of nine proteins, ranging from carnitas, to carne asada to grilled mushrooms. Expect to pay $18-23.
Elsewhere on the menu are egg dishes (huevos rancheros or divorciados, for example, $18), breakfast enchiladas ($17), pancakes, and assorted riffs on flautas, tacos, and burritos, typically involving heavy use of one of those salsas ($15-19). I took advantage of one of the Cocina 35 samplers—$24 platters that pair the house specialty with other dishes—to try my preferred creamy chipotle chilaquiles along with the cajeta French toast (topped with a drizzle of the goat's milk caramel).
But it's a sandwich that especially caught my attention, because it's served with a pastel pink teapot. The torta ahogada ($22) can be made with any of the house proteins (I went with machaca). Ahogada means drowned, so the teapot is filled with a tomato-chipotle broth meant to be poured all over the sandwich.
Like most of Cocina 35's dishes, it's lighter than expected, in this case owing less to the large bolillo roll it's made on, than to a light touch with the meat. But I'll admit to having fun with the teapot. Meanwhile, celebrations were taking place all around me, led by an enthusiastic, waitstaff. A young family celebrated with flan, a birthday candle, and song. A group of four young ladies celebrated with shots, paired with a chant that caught on around the whole dining room, including the kids: "Shots! Shots! Shots!"
It's hard to imagine this vibe catching on down at the Otay border. But that and pricier-than-usual chilaquiles are what a million dollar view might get you.
Pickled red onions, sliced avocados, and crispy tortillas smothered in spicy salsa. These are the images that used to pop into my head when I thought of the family of Mexican brunch restaurants known as Cocina 35.
1201 1st St., Coronado
I recall the first time I encountered their chilaquiles, down by the Otay Border crossing, at a location they were still calling La Loteria at the time. Eventually, they would settle on the Cocina 35 branding established in Cortez Hill ten years ago, and use it to open several locations. But already in 2017 they were calling their chilaquiles the best in San Diego, and you could see the makings of a colorful aesthetic at work, both in the presentation of their food, an in the decor of an otherwise humble cafeteria setting.
Calling anything "the best," invites debate. However memorable, I don't necessarily agree their chilaquiles to be the city's best, mostly because I prefer a denser corn tortilla under all the salsa, eggs, and other chilaquiles pile-ons.
However, with their newest location, I don't think there's a better place in all of So Cal to enjoy chilaquiles with a view.
From the dining room of Cocina 35 Brunch, freshly opened in Coronado, diners enjoy a sweeping look across San Diego Bay at downtown in all its skyscraping glory. That's because the Cocina 35 team is now in possession of the magnificent picture window view previously beheld by Coronado institution Costa Azul, which ended its long run in September.
Immediately outside the window pass pedestrians, dogs, and bikes enjoying a bayside walk beside the Coronado Ferry Landing, but the sky, the ocean, and the city skyline dominate the restaurant's dining room in ways one might never except from a Mexican breakfast dish originally conceived to make use of day-old corn tortillas.
And while most restaurants might be content to let that view dominate, Cocina 35 has seen fit to counter it with a whimsical twist, outfitting the space with pink Bougainvillea, twisted into tree shapes that inject vibrant color regardless of what the weather is doing outside. Color that matches the food, you might say.
Chilaquiles don't make up the entire Cocina 35 menu, just most of it. They offer five different salsas of varying spice levels, plus a sixth "secreto" salsa that combines the serrano chili verde salsa with the creamy habanero. To that you can opt to add any of nine proteins, ranging from carnitas, to carne asada to grilled mushrooms. Expect to pay $18-23.
Elsewhere on the menu are egg dishes (huevos rancheros or divorciados, for example, $18), breakfast enchiladas ($17), pancakes, and assorted riffs on flautas, tacos, and burritos, typically involving heavy use of one of those salsas ($15-19). I took advantage of one of the Cocina 35 samplers—$24 platters that pair the house specialty with other dishes—to try my preferred creamy chipotle chilaquiles along with the cajeta French toast (topped with a drizzle of the goat's milk caramel).
But it's a sandwich that especially caught my attention, because it's served with a pastel pink teapot. The torta ahogada ($22) can be made with any of the house proteins (I went with machaca). Ahogada means drowned, so the teapot is filled with a tomato-chipotle broth meant to be poured all over the sandwich.
Like most of Cocina 35's dishes, it's lighter than expected, in this case owing less to the large bolillo roll it's made on, than to a light touch with the meat. But I'll admit to having fun with the teapot. Meanwhile, celebrations were taking place all around me, led by an enthusiastic, waitstaff. A young family celebrated with flan, a birthday candle, and song. A group of four young ladies celebrated with shots, paired with a chant that caught on around the whole dining room, including the kids: "Shots! Shots! Shots!"
It's hard to imagine this vibe catching on down at the Otay border. But that and pricier-than-usual chilaquiles are what a million dollar view might get you.