La Internacional: Best View Of The Plaza

Not long after our return to San Jose del Cabo we ambled over to our favorite destination for thick and succulent steaks, the handsome restaurant El Vaquero along the east edge of the plaza in the heart of the community's historic district. We found it closed, as in permanently. A sign bearing two of the more common yet depressing words in town - "Se Renta" - hung on the building that had housed the steakhouse for the past few years. We don't have a clue what happened to the place. All we know is that we'll miss the refreshing yet bracing peach martini, the juicy prime rib carved tableside, and a real rarity hereabouts - the truly professional staff, which on our last visit doted over our grandson as he struggled to hang on to and gnaw the bone from a hunk of rib-eye.

 El Vaquero occupied one of the more storied and visible buildings in San Jose del Cabo, a long and low-slung structure directly across the plaza from the municipal hall. Over the decades, the building variously had housed businesses ranging from the first newspaper of Baja California South, Le Voz de Sur, to the busiest Ford dealership outside of Mexico City. A prediction: It won't long remain vacant. I'm tempted to dispatch an email to Kurt Spataro, executive chef of the Sacramento restaurant Centro, devoted to regional Mexican food. While San Jose del Cabo has a wide range of restaurants, not one comes close to Centro in emulating with precision and pride Mexico's intricate, enduring and diverse regional cuisines. Given all the license plates that we see here from Mexican states far removed from Baja California Sur, such a restaurant could be immensely popular.

With El Vaquero closed, we looked about for a nearby alternative. We didn't have to look far. On the second floor of the building directly next door is La Internacional, which opened about six months ago, according to our server. As its name suggests, La Internacional takes a global approach to its menu and wine list. Dishes draw inspiration from Africa, Asia, Europe, Mexico and elsewhere. The wine list is similarly wide ranging, including no fewer that four Champagnes, as well as releases from the United States, Argentina, Mexico, Chile and Spain. Both menu and wine list, however, are truncated, as if the people behind La Internacional still are gauging just how receptive local residents and tourists will be to their novel concept before investing more ambitiously in their food and drink. The most appealing dish among the plates we ordered was the fresh and spicy Vietnamese spring roll, fruity with papaya, crunchy with cucumber and herbal with cilantro, basil and mint; its accompanying peanut sauce is what brought the spice to the plate (65 pesos). A Moroccan beet salad was bright and wholesome, but could have been more liberally seasoned with cumin (55 pesos). A glass of the Crin tempranillo from Rioja tasted ripe but tired (60 pesos). Servers were amiable and attentive, and the setting comfortable and relaxing. In design, La Internacional has two fetching features. The long balcony provides the best view in town of the plaza, which during a balmy dusk came alive with all sorts of diverting activity. Directly below, a half-dozen youngsters got involved in a pick-up soccer match, using sneakers they'd taken off to designate the goals. The ever-present balloon man sauntered across the plaza, a chubby kid on a skateboard clattered over the concrete, and a youngster in a bright pink pedal car weaved about other children on trikes and in strollers. As the sun disappeared behind the distant hills, a group of about three dozen people, each bearing a lighted candle, emerged from the east side of the plaza and swayed solemnly toward the silhouette of the mission church across the way, where some sort of service was commencing.

And don't ignore La Internacional's bathrooms. They're large, clean, considerately appointed and artfully decorated, with a large vase of fresh flowers in the women's, an even bigger floral painting in the men's. I almost invariably seek out the banos in a Mexican restaurant because I'm curious to how they are designated. Almost invariably, restaurateurs eschew the standard blue-and-white male and female silhouette signs so common in the United States. Instead, they go in for imaginative artistry. Much of it, to be sure, is politically incorrect, a throwback to traditional and outdated stereotypes of what signifies feminity and masculinity. In that regard, the bathroom signs at La Internacional are rather tame. When looking for the men's room, watch for the uniformed officer on the motorcycle above, and for the women's look for the fashionably attired and coyly poising woman. They're good, but not as clever and lyrical as what was used at El Vaquerro - a fine lacy shawl draped on the door of the women's restroom, a pair of spurs on the men's.