The Enchilada Chronicles: mole triumphant at Ninfa's

Both times I've tried chef Patti Delgado's mole enchiladas—four months apart and at two different locations of The Original Ninfa's—they have struck me as one of Houston's best dishes.

Delgado took over these historic kitchens in late 2023, and it's been interesting to see how her reworkings and tweaks to the menu have played out. The sacred table salsas, the formerly dreary queso, the refashioned tamales all pop with new life.

That's particularly true of the chicken mole enchiladas, marvels of depth and textural detail. Pueblan-style mole Poblano often winds up too sweet for my tastes in local restaurants, but Delgado weaves such a complex tapestry of dusky chiles, seeds, nuts and fruit that the flavors linger on the palate for minutes after the last bite.

Guajillo, cascabel, ancho and arbol are the dried red chile pods she employs, fleshed out with the nutty tones of pumpkin seeds, peanuts, almonds and sesame. Raisins chime in with their own dark, fruity tang. The sunny heat travels up and over the roof of your mouth, and then sticks around to remind you that you're alive.

That's just the mole sauce. Inside the three tortilla cylinders dwell irregularly torn shreds of carefully roasted chicken. On top rides a cargo of fresh tastes, textures and temperatures: a soft pavement of thin-sliced avocado; whisper-thin radish disks; squiggles of cool crema and warm melted white cheese; yielding crumbles of queso fresco; chopped scallion, ringlets of crisp white onion and a leafy sprig of cilantro; the itty bitty crunch of sesame seeds.

I consider these enchiladas a minor miracle well worth the $20 tab, which includes superior beans and rice. (Try the refried black beans and the cilantro/poblano rice for a change of pace).

So what about your old faves? The red and green salsas seem to have an extra spring in their step--the green with a lilt of garlic; the red roastier and deeper than ever. The salty, sluggish queso I once avoided now involves an uplifting element of sharp cheddar. (You'll want it with the corn totopos, with their crackly-sharp contrast, rather than the softer fried flour-tortillas that have become the rule here.) It's been terrific on two occasions, although on a third, when I longed for a bigger hit of pico in the mix, it seemed to be sliding back toward over-saltiness again.

That's the thing about changing up recipes and cooking methods in an established kitchen: the execution may wobble. The dewy little crab tostadas I've loved on two visits fell flatter on a third, at the Navigation original, when the kitchen forgot to add the vinaigrette that made the dish sing. It's not easy to get everybody on the same page.

I was wowed by Delgado's reconfigured tamales when I tried them—although they're not a dish I usually order. Her version of cochinita pibil resonated, too, the dark tones of the marinated pork kicked up by a curtido of pickled red onion. I'm looking forward to seeing what else this talented chef will achieve at such an important Houston institution.

By the way, you can try Delgado's pibil in a torta that's on the new, first-ever lunch menu offered only at the Uptown location. The short menu is priced from 14 to 16 bucks, and it includes a couple of appealing Tex-Mex combo plates along with more serious stuff.