FOOD & DRI NK

48
ENOUGH SPICE
TO GO AROUND
At Caf Mabels in Laurel, the Mexican dishesand those
who serve them upare nothing short of authentic
fter 23 years of waiting tables in her familys
restaurant, Mabel Torres has seen it all.
But my friend Bob stopped her in her
tracks. Hed just ordered a second plate of
ropa vieja, a succulent blend of braised beef, vegetables
and spices that serves as comfort food all over Latin
America. Its rich and filling and delicious. And its not
a Lays potato chip. It comes with beans and rice and
tortillas and most people can barely eat just one. But Bob
wanted two.
And thats what made Mabel pause. Had anybody ever
eaten two of them before? She took the question seriously.
She thought for several seconds.
No, she said. Then she went to fetch Bobs second
load.
Mabel (pronounced Ma Bell) is the public face of Caf
Mabels, a funky-looking joint on the industrial east end
of Laurel, which is a fragrant neighborhood. Coal and
oil trains bake in the sunshine there, and moving them
around creates a lot of diesel smoke, which almost over-
whelms the creosote oozing from all those railroad ties.
And theres usually a hint of refinery wafting in from the
big smokestacks down by the river.
But Mabels is a rose among these thorns. In the
potholed parking lot, youll get a whiff of what you came
for: garlic and beef, pork and potatoes, chicken and chilis.
Its a heady blend for a hungry traveler.
But first you have to find the place. Drive to the
middle of Laurel, cross beneath the railroad tracks to the
north side of town and turn east on Main Street, past the
bars and junk shops and storefront churches. When you
see an old motel the color of Pepto Bismol, youre getting
warm. Watch for a nondescript gray storefront on the
north side of the street, sandwiched between a brace of
convenience stores. Thats Mabels. Find a place to park
(mind the potholes) and haul your appetite indoors, where
BY SCOTT McMILLION
PHOTOGRAPHY BY JOHN WARNER
A
MONTA N A QUA R T E R LY 49
Above: Caf Mabels will prepare any of its dishes to your desired
level of heat. At left, the restaurants namesake, Mabel Torres,
takes orders, serves tables and clears them at a steady pace.
50
People hear us laughing and singing and having a good time, says Joel Torres, center. They hear you sing, says chef Bert Vasser, left,
and when you dance I leave. Jake Powell, right, rounds out the crew of chefs.
MONTA N A QUA R T E R LY 51
you might catch a faint whiff of bleach, depending on
how recently Mabel cleared and swabbed your table. She
keeps the place very clean.
Overhead, a pressed-tin ceiling resembles an avocado
skin. The walls are mango. The carpet is a little frizzy
and the table-tops are Formica. A velvet Aztec adorns
one wall and giant picture windows offer a commanding
view of those trains parked across the street. In the corner
theres a gumball machine, another that sells temporary
tattoos and ornamental stickers, spelling out that this is
a family joint. There isnt a speck of dust anywhere. Not
much noise, either. Everybodys too busy eating.
And then comes Mabel and she is impeccable. She
doesnt walk so much as she glides, servicing a dozen or
more tables and running the cash register, too, making
it all look easy. Smiling beneath horned rim glasses and
a perfect crown of steel gray hair, she brings chips with
salsa of her own making, the kind with a little efferves-
cence in it. She brings menus, tells you beer is available
in the convenience store next door and goes about the
business of easing hunger, one table at a time, as shes
done for all these years. The Mexican food she brings
is the real stuff, not some Tex-Mex hybrid, which isnt
bad but it isnt what Mabels is about. Shes a trained
chef. So is her husband, Joel. They serve the kind of
food Mexicans serve their holiday guests, or order in fine
restaurants. Fresh ingredients, plenty of lime and cilan-
tro, and not too much heat, unless you want it that way.
A sign outside describes it as both nuevo Latino and
traditional Mexican.
You can go somewhere in Mexico and find the same
dish, Joel explains. We try to cover all five regions of
the country.
You can get a burrito or a couple tacos if you want. But
thats not why youre here, not when you can get a plate, or
two, of that ropa vieja. In English, that means old clothes,
but its really a pot roast, in a sauce Joel and Mabel
created. Like everything on the menu, except the tortillas
and chips, its made by hand, in-house and from scratch.
Pot roast isnt your style? Try the pollo al cilantro. Or
the steaks rubbed with Mexican spices. The house chili
Caf Mabels sits east of downtown Laurel
and blends in with the industrial image of
the area.
Caf Mabels, 801 E. Main, Laurel
Lunch: 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Tuesday through Friday
Dinner: 5 to 8 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday
Friday and Saturday 5 to 9 p.m.
52
loaded with beef and beans. Or the pork chops sauted
with garlic and black pepper and green chiles. Or the
gordo salad, which means fatboy, because its topped with
a grilled ribeye. Or you can get it topped with shrimp,
instead. Both, if youre feeling especially gordo.
The menu has something for everybody, except vegetar-
ians, though the crew will work with you on that.
And then theres For the Adventurous. Thats a
menu item. Honest. You never know exactly what youll
get. Just select a type of meat and announce your toler-
ance level for peppers: poblanos for the dyspeptic,
habaneros if youve got a leather gullet, somewhere in
between for most people.
Your choice of meat, your choice of heat, the menu
says.
People who are adventurous pretty much let me do
what I want, Joel says. In 20 years, nobodys been
disappointed.
So I figured why not? I ordered chicken, shrimp and
chipotles. It arrived mounded with Mexican queso fresco,
papayas and peppers. A spare plate held the rice and beans.
Portions are big at Mabels, the service is prompt
and the prices are reasonable. Lunches run about $10,
dinners about $20, mostly.
Both Joel and Mabel were born in Mexico, but Joel
quickly points out that hes all American now. (Theres a
map of Mexico on the wall, but theres an American flag
next to it.) He first came to Montana to study at Montana
State University Billings, where he later taught culinary
arts, and brought Mabel up from Arizona for a visit in 1980.
I loved it, she said. It reminded her of her childhood
home in the Sierra Madre foothills of western Mexico. In
1989, the Torreses returned and set up their own busi-
ness. The mountains drew them, Joel said, but he didnt
want to get locked in to a seasonal resort economy. So
he settled in Laurel, a blue-collar town where he could
distinguish himself and his menu from the chain restau-
rants and Tex-Mex places that dominate shopping strips
in bigger cities.
He and Mabel started out selling takeout food and
making deliveries but his business quickly outstripped
his workspace so he moved to the current location, once
53 MONTA N A QUA R T E R LY
a bakery and before that a grocery store,
paying off the mortgage in three years. His
kids worked there until their educations
priced them out of that kind of work. I
couldnt afford them any more, Joel says
with a proud smile, but a 13-year-old grand-
son now helps the kitchen crew, most of
whom have been with the Torreses for years.
I pay my help well and they work hard
when I need it, Joel says. So far, it works.
The crowd is mostly local, mostly blue-
collar, but you could see almost anybody
there: Billings bankers on a lunch break,
workers from the refineries or the nearby
farms, a young couple celebrating their
first anniversary, travelers detouring off
Interstate 90. But they all have one thing
in common: If they leave hungry, its their
own fault.
Which is something my friend Bob
didnt do. On a second trip, he ordered the
ropa vieja again.
Dos, por favor.
Mabel just rolled her eyes. This time,
shed seen it before.
Tacos and
live jazz every
Tuesday
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Victor Perez, right, and
Melchor Ortiz are local
customers who find
familiar and delicious
fare at the restaurant.