Five Burro Cafe

Category: Restaurants, Cafes, Bars

Mexican

NEW YORK MAGAZINE Review:

Amid the chain stores that have commandeered the Austin Street shopping strip, 5 Burro Cafe is a welcoming mom-and-pop operation with a palapa roof and corrugated metal walls. A boisterous bar beckons locals with lethal “two-finger” frozen margaritas, a crowd-pleasing rock juke, and screens showing the Mets and Yankees. The restaurant takes its tacos as seriously as its teams, and meeting the food minimum at tables is far more pleasure than obligation. The Mexican cooks show careful flair with south-of-the-border chow that neighborhood gringos savor with tropical drinks or one of more than a dozen cabana-style cervezas. Queso fundido—chorizo sausage smothered in Monterey Jack cheese—is wonderfully sloppy and satisfying, and fajitas showcase tender chicken that could fly solo. The kitchen fields steady orders for everyday-sounding nachos con carne, cheesy tortilla chips with meat. But here, the carne is no lame, tame ground beef. Instead, it’s skirt steak marinated for flavor, grilled to order, sliced rib-size, and heaped atop the chips. If God is in the details, here’s Dios in a dish. — Karen Tina Harrison

*****

TIME OUT NY Review:

There’s oro in them thar hills. Against all odds—Forest Hills ain’t rowdy—5 Burro is a kick-ass, rock-juked Mexican cantina drawing drinkers and diners alike. Tables in the small back room are packed by 7:30pm. Start with a strong, slushy margarita (lime and strawberry stand out) and sensational nachos con carne, topped with a heap of tender marinated steak. Keep the meat coming with first-rate beef fajitas. The Mexican cooks’ creations are dependably delicious and generous; you’ll be the burro packing leftovers home.

*****

QUEENS TRIBUNE Review:
by Angela Montefinise

You can hear the jukebox from down the block.

It’s coming from a café on the the less crowded part of Austin Street; a dark restaurant with a bright yellow awning nestled amongst closed storefront retail shops.

Inside of Five Burros, the rock music blaring from the 50s-like jukebox gets louder as you squeeze your way through the crowd of young singles and couples hanging around the bar sipping Coronas and frozen peach margaritas.

People sitting and laughing at the close-together tables are eating cheese-covered, Mexican specialties, from lobster tacos to quesadillas.

People are playing pinball in the back room while groups of beer-guzzling sports fans are toasting a homerun hit in the game being broadcast on small, silent televisions hanging from the ceiling.
Sombreros, pinatas, license plates, photos of bull fighters, colored lights and all sorts of other trinkets are hanging on the walls, while busy waiters in t-shirts and jeans hustle around with plates of food and soon-to-be-placed orders.

You manage to find a stool at the bar – which has a five-foot fake Corona bottle on the awning above it and always stays open until 4 a.m. – and try to decide between one of the specialty drinks, all mixed perfectly by the bartender.

A nice guy sitting next to you says hi, then warns you to watch out for the Red Death. It’s a doozy.

Cheers.