Casa Don Juan

Entering Casa Don Juan on a weekday evening, this thought immediately came to mind: A Mexican restaurant in downtown Las Vegas with no Mexican customers means one of two things:

1) It's a Velveeta venue, one step away from a chain like Chi-Chi's, with an appeal only for those who don't know any better.

2) This downtown thing may actually be working. Those gringos are downtown-area employees stopping for dinner rather than fighting the traffic. There's enough authenticity for Mexican expatriates (and their descendants), but they'll be along later.

Turned out to be Door No. 2. Who'd a thunk it?

Not that I'm heralding the rebirth of downtown, which is no doubt several years away at best (although the expansion of the outlet mall and World Market Center seem like positive signs). And not that I came to the Door No. 2 decision quickly.

Actually, things got off to a pretty mild start at Casa Don Juan. You'll never get the idea from me that all Mexican food needs to be extremely spicy, but a culture with this much reverence for flavor generally doesn't overdo it in the bland arena, and that was how our dinner started out. The requisite tortilla chips were fresh and crisp and a salsa cruda reflective of the flavors of fresh vegetables at their best, but the bean dip that accompanied it was overly bland -- basically the same mashed pintos served with dinners. As a side dish to a spicy entree, such a bland concoction can be balm for fried taste buds, but as a dip ... well, let's just say the salsa wasn't fiery. And the guacamole our waitress offered ($2.99) also was quite bland and overblended to a very smooth puree. It was served in a tortilla shell, which was a nice touch, but some chunks -- and some onion, some garlic, some chile, a burst of lime -- would've been nice.

But they blew me away with the shrimp.

Let's just say someone in the kitchen at Casa Don Juan definitely has an appreciation for seafood -- which makes sense, because there's quite a bit of it on the menu. I've ordered Camarones al Mojo de Ajo ($11.99) -- essentially shrimp scampi, to you and me -- a fair number of times over the years. I don't really know why, because I've never found a version I liked, but I guess I kept hoping.

Now I'm glad I didn't give up, because the garlic shrimp at Casa Don Juan rocked. They were largish and had been butterflied and cooked in the shell just until they were translucent, which means they were still nice and tender. Then they'd been cloaked in a buttery sauce infused with an amount of garlic that was gratifying and may even have verged on daring (especially compared to the guacamole) and topped with bread crumbs soaked in the same mixture. That they were still in the shell made eating them a rather messy proposition -- fingers were definitely needed to separate the shrimp from the shell -- but that didn't matter a whole lot to my friend and me, because they were so good.

On the side: a pretty decent rice mixture, a little mound of greens, the bland beans (not as objectionable this time) and some guacamole.

Hoping to sample as much of the Casa Don Juan repertoire as we could, my co-diner ordered the combination plate of a chile relleno, beef taco and beef enchilada ($11.99), except that she asked them to substitute a cheese enchilada. All were pretty good, the vegetable part of the chile relleno crisp-tender, which was a nice break from the usual soggy mass. The breading also was thinner than usual. Again, a good thing.

Flautas ($6.99) filled with shredded beef were shatteringly crisp but moist inside. And a dish of choriqueso ($7.99) (melted cheese topped with browned chorizo, served with tortillas so we could moo-shu it if we wanted) was quite nice -- well-seasoned and nearly grease free.

All of which was a lot of food, so dessert was out of the question.

And as the night wore on, we noticed the gringos decamping for the suburbs and Mexican families drifting in to share their dinners and chat with the strolling guitarist.

If our dinner at Casa Don Juan is any indication, this downtown thing may actually work.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@ reviewjournal.com.