TASTE TEST: Mofongo at La Casa de Mofongo

My Haitian friend Stace loves mofongo. My Miami-visiting friend Morayo has always wanted to try mofongo. I have never (and I mean, ever) wanted to try anything that sounded like mofongo. It childishly reminds me of the Spanish word mojon, which means shit. This did not entice me. But they've been begging me to take them to a place with great mofongo for weeks, since I'm Dominican and I should know where that is. So I went to the great Dominican oracle (Google Maps) and I searched the words "mofongo + ny," and there it was...La Casa de Mofongo, the promised land of all things mofongo.

This is the part where I tell you it was a religious experience and I am now a mofongo-ite. And I spread it on my toast in the morning, and I carry it around in my bag to freshen my breath, and I've frozen a block of it in my fridge in case of emergency. Alas, that is not the case. I have the palate of a newborn. If it aint salty or sweet, it's gross.

For those of you who don't know what mofongo is--essentially 99.9% of you--it's mashed plantains. I know what you're thinking. That sounds friggin delicious. No. No it isn't. Fried plantains are delicious. Plantain mush tastes like mush. Pureed plantains with shredded beef (a.k.a. ropa vieja, which literally translated means "old clothes" and still sounds better) is delicious. Mashed plantains are not. Not even when you mix in a meat (pork, beef, chicken, etc.) and then mold the mixture into a hard, 4-inch tall, cylinder shape, as La Casa de Mofongo does.

The only person who enjoyed it and vows to return is Stace. I, on the other hand, will stick to my old clothes, because if a place that specializes in a dish can't make it taste good, I doubt it ever will...to a newborn at least.

La Casa de Mofongo, 1444 St. Nicholas Ave