I have such a hard time recommending pop-ups, mainly because I have a natural antipathy for waiting in line for food. (The only food I will currently wait more than ten minutes in line for is the black lentil dal at Dishoom and bagels from Tal.) Luckily, Flor is tucked away in the basement of Merci and, thanks to its 11am to 5pm hours, did not require waiting on the Saturday lunchtime when I chose to pay it a visit with an American friend, equally starved for excellent Mexican fare in Paris. Unfortunately, it’s only going to be around for two more weeks. So I implore you: Get there while you can.
Flor is the brainchild and passion project of Chef Rob Mendoza, who, after time at Le Saint-Sébastien and Vivant2, decided to take a step back from fine dining and devote himself to zen and the art of tortilla making. He takes a terroir-driven approach to this core staple of his menu, sourcing the corn from small family farms and priding himself on the choice of unique varieties that give him exactly the flavor and texture he wants.
He nixtamalizes the corn himself, washing it just enough to maintain the right stickiness before grinding it in a stone grinder to make his own masa, which he forms into small tortillas in full view of his clients. While the recipes coming out of the kitchen are his, Mendoza mans the tortilla griddle, cooking each one in full view of the dining room. The griddle he uses is primed with two distinct temperatures; the perfect tortilla, he says, is cooked low first, then high, flipped precisely twice. After ten minutes of resting, they’re ready to be used in one of the small handful of dishes he offers on any given day.
Tacos come in meat, veggie, or fish options. We went for the beef – a slow-cooked, fall-apart-tender creation served with small containers of onion, cilantro, salsa verde, and chipotle for drizzling. The texture here was insane, and that chipotle sauce deserves its own bottling and branding.
The mushroom quesadilla was a no-brainer, stuffed, as it was, with meaty, seasonal mushrooms and local raclette cheese. The top was blanketed with a smooth guajillo chile sauce that added a pop of color to the plate and a lovely depth and fruitiness to the finished dish.
It also came with an endive salad – the height of simple perfection, with a shallot vinaigrette coating each of the generous chunks of the bitter winter veg.
The enfrijolada is the chef’s nostalgic, comfort food offering. “It’s what I grew up eating,” he said, as he delivered the plate. It’s easy to understand why: The smooth bean filling offered just the barest of contrasts with the slightly sweet graininess of the tortilla. It’s the dish that allows the tortilla to sing best.
But surprisingly, my favorite was the one we ordered on a whim, when our waitress helpfully let us know that we might leave the table hungry without one more morsel. We opted for the tostada with chorizo, a crisp tortilla base with a bit more of that lovely bean purée, all heaped with spiced, richly flavorful chorizo and a generous helping of fresh herbs.
You have two more weeks to get there – run!
Flor Cantina (Merci basement) – 111 Bd Beaumarchais, 75003