There are restaurants you enjoy, and then there are restaurants that become part of your life.
For me, there was a restaurant in Long Beach that fell firmly into the second category. I loved going there. It was the kind of place where I could look at the menu and already know exactly what I wanted—or, more accurately, exactly what I was going to order again.
They were around for almost 10 years, which is long enough for a restaurant to become part of the fabric of a city. And then, about two years ago, they closed.
I still haven’t gotten over it.
I know that sounds dramatic. It was, after all, a restaurant. But food has a funny way of attaching itself to memories, routines, people, and places. Sometimes you don’t realize how much a restaurant means to you until you can’t go there anymore.
And this particular restaurant left behind one very specific problem:
I still crave the food.
There is a sister location that’s still open, and thankfully, some of my favorite dishes are still available there. But the menu isn’t exactly the same, and some of the things I miss most never made the transition.
And then there’s the price.
I completely understand that restaurants cost more now. Ingredients cost more. Labor costs more. Everything costs more. But I have a certain emotional resistance to paying around $20 for a plate of spaghetti that doesn’t even come with meat—especially when I remember the version I used to love.
So I’ve decided to take matters into my own kitchen.
But Let’s Be Clear: I Am Not a Pro
Before I get too ambitious with this little project, let me establish something important:
I am not a professional recipe developer.
I’ve actually been copycatting Starbucks drinks for years. I’ve experimented with recreating some of my favorite drinks at home and even shared a few of my versions.
But food?
That’s a different story.
I don’t exactly make a habit of recreating restaurant dishes.
Well…that’s not entirely true.
There was one time, before I knew Hostess was bringing back a dessert I loved, that I wanted it badly enough to try making my own version. And honestly, I got it somewhat OK.
Somewhat.
It wasn’t a disaster, but it did fulfill my craving.
So that’s the level of expertise we’re working with here.
I’m not coming into this thinking I know exactly how these dishes were made. I’m going to experiment, taste, adjust, Google things, probably get some things completely wrong, and hopefully stumble onto something that comes close.
The Copycat Challenge
There are four dishes that immediately come to mind whenever I think about this restaurant.
And these aren’t just dishes I remember liking.
These are dishes I repeatedly ordered. You know, the kind where you could hand me the menu and I’d basically be like, “Cute. I’ll have my usual.”
Mole Tots
First: the mole tots.
Yes. Mole tots.
Even writing that makes me want them.
There was something about taking something as unapologetically snacky and comforting as tater tots and pairing them with mole that made the whole thing feel like so much more than a pile of potatoes.
This is definitely one I’m going to have to tackle.
Hatch Chile Spaghetti with Short Ribs
This might be the one I miss the most.
Hatch chile spaghetti with short ribs is exactly the kind of dish that sounds slightly unexpected until you eat it and realize it makes perfect sense.
The pasta, chile, richness, and tender short rib made it one of those meals I could order repeatedly without getting tired of it.
And this is also the dish that makes me look at the current price of spaghetti at the sister location and think, I really need to learn how to make this myself.
I’m not saying my version will be better.
I’m just saying I’d like to eat it without having an internal debate over whether I really want to spend $20 on spaghetti without meat.
Chicken Pastor
Then there’s the chicken pastor.
Al pastor is one of those flavors that can be dangerously addictive—the chile, the spices, the sweetness, the char. And the chicken version from this restaurant was absolutely something I could order again and again.
This one may actually be more approachable to recreate at home, although I’m sure getting the seasoning and cooking technique right will be the real challenge.
Still, I’m willing to try.
For the sake of nostalgia.
And tacos. Obviously.
Horchata Pancakes
And finally: horchata pancakes.
Because apparently regular pancakes weren’t enough.
These were exactly the kind of brunch item that made me excited to go out to eat. Sweet, cozy, cinnamon-y, and inspired by a drink that already has a permanent place in my heart.
I don’t know if I’ll ever perfectly reproduce the original, but I’m absolutely going to try.
This Isn’t Happening Tomorrow
I’m also not about to announce four copycat recipes next week.
I have other things going on, and, frankly, I’m going to need some trial and error here.
But I am setting myself a goal of recreating at least two of these dishes before the end of the year.
I’ll start with the ones I’m most curious about and document the process—the successes, the failures, the ingredients that don’t work, the recipes that need tweaking, and hopefully the moment when I take a bite and think:
Oh.
There it is.
Because that’s really what I’m chasing.
Not just a recipe.
A memory.
I’m trying to recreate that feeling of sitting down at a restaurant I loved, looking at a menu I knew by heart, and ordering something I already knew was going to make me happy.
Two years later, I still miss that place.
But maybe I don’t have to completely let go of the food.
Maybe I can bring a little bit of it home.
And if I manage to crack the code on those mole tots, Hatch chile spaghetti with short ribs, chicken pastor, and horchata pancakes?
Well, I’ll consider that a pretty successful reunion.
Even if it takes me a few questionable attempts—and possibly several very confused trips to the grocery store—to get there.
