9400 Arboretum Blvd.; 346-3506
Mon-Thu, 11am-10:30pm; Fri & Sat ’til midnight; Sun, 9am-10pm
I have to admit, I was a little disappointed when I learned that Z-Tejas was taking up residence
at the Arboretum. It’s not that I have anything against the Arboretum, really,
and I’m all for the restaurant prospering; it’s just that the comfortable
Clarksville palace where Southwestern cuisine reigns supreme seems perfectly
fit for Central Austin, and I feared that its move uptown would translate as a
move upscale.
Well, I was wrong. Sure, the vast new location with its gleaming bar, mammoth
stone fireplace, loft-inspired lighting and candlelit tables with a view, not
to mention its fashion-conscious clientele, is decidedly tonier than its
downtown sister. The menu at the north location is also more extensive (and the
wait agonizingly longer), but the kitchen’s devotion to innovation and flavors
indigenous to the Southwest hasn’t wavered, although the menu also features an
intriguing interplay of Asian and Caribbean-inspired dishes as well as some
good ol’ Southern comfort food. At the Arboretum, Z-Tejas stand-bys such as the
duck enchiladas and the Navajo taco with its festive, crunchy spinach share
billing with provocative new creations like the flash-fried porcupine shrimp
($14.25), sizable creatures stuffed plump with crab then coated with ribbons of
blue- and yellow-corn tortilla strips. The large plate of shrimp came accented
by a tangy blackberry-wasabi sauce and the accompanying side dishes included a
fluffy, yet rich corn custard and a bouquet of grilled vegetables.
An ancho-rubbed pork tenderloin ($11.95) came to the table looking ordinary at
best, but what the entr�e lacked in appearance, it made up in flavor. A
bold, rosemary-spiked demi-glace was the perfect match for the lightly grilled,
slightly spicy medallions, and a festive mound of sweet potato hay provided
respite from the added fire of a feisty side of green chile mashers.
On a subsequent visit to the thriving new location, an appetizer of ahi tuna
emerged as rounds of delicately seared, black, sesame-crusted fish atop a
glistening black peppercorn vinaigrette and soy mustard sauce. A nest of
pickled ginger finished off the plate. The dish was a triumph, the satiny fish
unctuous and the sauce an ideal, zesty condiment, all an indication that
Z-Tejas’ foray into Asian cuisine ought to be heralded.
An exploration of multi-ethnic cuisine proved less celebratory, however. A
dinner special of pan-seared shrimp over bow-tie pasta in a light cream sauce
sprinkled with chile pasilla, feta, Andouille sausage, and avocado failed to
come together, the flavors, while singularly tasty, remained layered in marked
juxtaposition. But a smoked chicken and black bean salad revealed the
restaurant’s expertise at executing straightforward Southwestern winners. The
salad — somewhat of a misnomer for the generous affair — was a marriage of
the earthy and refreshing. Smoky chicken and lustrous black beans complemented
finely julienned red and yellow bell peppers. The mix was energized by the
cool, citrus blast of a lime vinaigrette. Roasted pumpkin and sesame seeds
added an enticing crunch, while a creamy dollop of robust goat cheese crowned
the dish with artistic flourish.
A meal at Z-Tejas is sure to end on a high note with a generous wedge of the
simply sinful ancho-fudge pie. Describing this dense slab of chocolate enhanced
by a smidge of ancho chile as rich is blatant understatement, as half the
dessert ended up coming home with me. While I enjoyed the remains over lunch
the following day, I realized that though my loyalty remains with the veteran
downtown location, the snazzy new Z-Tejas, with its notable menu additions,
definitely possesses the power of seduction.
— Rebecca Chastenet de G�ry
This article appears in October 25 • 1996 and October 25 • 1996 (Cover).