You've had breakfast, now try dinner

Senor Moose

5242 Leary Ave. N.W.

784-5568

Open 7 days, 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. to 9 p.m.

By Patricia Devine and Jim Anderson

Thanks to their abundant traditional Mexican fare served fresh and with a smile, Senor Moose has been revered as a premier Ballard breakfast spot since their arrival on Leary Ave. Originally limited to just the early meals of the day, Senor Moose added dinners late in 2005, contributing a unique option to the expanding Ballard dinner trade.

Senor Moose is housed in an old building with a long rich history, doing down-and-dirty duty at a boarding house, corner store, gyros joint, and now one of the finest Mexican eateries we've visited. Senor Moose shines, and summer adds to the sparkle. Their Sangria ($7.50) packs one of the fruitiest punches around, and is rivaled by their thirst-quenching Watermelon Water, a pink and sweet non-alcoholic cooler. When paired with an absolutely stunning guacamole, the Sangria's fragrant citrus-strong bouquet comes on like a train-full of produce, offering a sort of fruity deliverance.

The chunky and minimally processed guacamole ($6.95) is studded with tiny slivers of green pepper, crunchy white onion, and big pieces of ripe tomato. Tossed lightly with fresh lemon juice and cilantro, it scoops up perfectly onto the warm, freshly fried tortilla chips, threatening to end the evening far too early due to overindulgence. Diners can rest assured that when working through the chips and guac with vigor, that they're not alone. Our server was empathetic when we had to take home half of our dinner after partaking too heavily of the first course. "That happens to everyone," he assured us, "me included."

But we learned that there is life after guacamole, even the best guacamole in town. Next came a colorful and mild cactus salad (Ensalada de Nopales, $4.95), presented pretty-as-a-food-magazine on a square yellow plate, where white onions, red tomatoes and green cactus leaves form the flag of an imaginary nation. The seared meat of the Pork Carnitas ($14.95) is served crispy and succulent, with a nod to chicharones, the Mexican fried pork-rind snack. Corn tortillas come hot and soft, and make a perfect holder for the smoky chunks of pork, simple and whole beans, and a little of the mild cubed white panela cheese, borrowed from the cactus salad.

The Camarones Estilo Veracruzana ($13.95) were as aggressively flavored as the cactus salad was mild. Driven by salty capers and a soft melange of tomatoes and onion, this was the dish of all dishes for those in love with the strong and heady flavor of capers. Round pinwheels of shrimp yielded with a juicy snap, spraying shrimpey liquid across the room. "Heads Up!" we yelled as our neighbors ducked from the spray.

Accompanied by small, almost blue-gray beans and a restrained dusting of cheese, the caper-dominated decapods mooshed together well with plate-mates, as the mild beans softened the enthusiastic and playful flavoring of the berries of the caper. Thought in some circles to have a medicinal use for the treatment of some types of arthritis, the capers turned this shrimp dish into a medicinal fiesta of goodness.

Colorful ceramic plates, orange walls, and rows of knick-knacks make the place feel like a combination between grandma's house and the carnival. Miniature people and animals, candles and decoration look down on diners from a ledge along the walls. Table and chairs are wooden and substantial, with plenty of room to sit comfortably.

At busy times, it can take a while for the food to arrive, but that's why, after all, someone invented Sangria. The bustling spot on Leary tends toward a roar, particularly on hot days when the windows and doors stay open to bring in a breeze. Part of the charm of Senor Moose is the quasi-industrial Ballard setting, although that's changing with the condo-glut of the surrounding area. This probably spells "que bueno" for the future of Senor Moose, as affluent and hungry condo-purchasers ready for the move into at least four nearby complexes.

Another charming aspect of Senor Moose is the placement of the office between the dining area and the bathrooms. You might just run into the owner of Senor Moose on the way back, as we did, while walking right through the working and busy office.

"I love your orange shirt, it goes with this place very nicely," offered the office dweller, while working away at a computer. Such down-home hospitality, nicely augmented by the unparalleled food and drink here, makes Senor Moose required eating for the lover of real-deal Mexican food.

Patricia Devine and Jim Anderson may be reached via bnteditor@robinsonnew.com