On first impression, Boho Mexica ticked all the right boxes. Random location on an ugly stretch of Commercial Road so it glows like a kiddies jewel box - check. Cosy interior with mismatched lightshades and old-school kitsch Mexican posters – check. Low ‘authentic music’, which made us all unconsciously shimmy and JB remark it felt like being on holiday- check.
Like most first impressions, it was wrong. We were shown to a cramped area to the right of the restaurant next to a couple with a small child rather than the area with dining couples and groups of friends on the other side. I had no beef with the baby, it’s just that I always feel I have to watch my language around tender ears. Then a large group of local office workers arrived (seemingly all huge bearded men over six foot, but maybe that’s because my stool was so low) and the what-had-before-been-pleasant-before music was cranked up to an unsociable level, giving the room the feel of a suburban Mexican-style chain resto. And the food matched.
Things started off promisingly enough with LC’s tamarind drink (she was on detox) and some pleasant carnitas tacos with shreds of slow roast pork. The dishes then all arrived in a rush. The guacamole was bland, as was the ceviche, which had an unpleasant cotton-like texture and none of the kick its description promised.
The crowning glory was the chicken in chocolate sauce which none of us had tried before. The sauce tasted of burnt molasses and the chicken was layered with flaps of unidentifiable carbohydrate. ‘Like Compeed’, said JB.
It was such a shame as we were all desperate to like Boho Mexica – we even gnawed our way through half the chicken in case we were missing that ‘something’. There was a never-ending stream of chirpy staff, but they were over-attentive to the point of taking away our cutlery before we’d even finished eating. The lack of uniform is also confusing – I was trying to shovel some food into my mouth using a napkin when someone we assumed was a waiter came up to offer us the dessert menu, but as he was wearing a rugby shirt it was hard to tell whether he was staff or just a random who felt like pitching in.
We were so discouraged we left without having dessert – a first. Instead we headed over to Spitalfields market for a cheese board and more wine. Yes, we had to wait half an hour before getting served but at least it was worth it.
