Skip the steak

- Photo by Jenny Montgomery

Café La Maze (pronounced like something you’d get lost in, not like a birthing technique) is a tiny outpost of Hollywood history. It wears the years well, beckoning customers in with a brightly lit old sign, promising both the class and the vices of a bygone era.

During the 1940s, Hollywood elite like Bing Crosby, Errol Flynn and others would stop in on their way to bet on the ponies in Tijuana. Today, the faded glamour sits juxtaposed against the backdrop of Highland Avenue in the heart of National City. Sure, the neighborhood has cleaned up a lot in recent years, but it’s no longer the sleepy rest stop where Clark Gable got lit on his way to Caliente.

The interior of the restaurant is the cat’s pajamas, with red-flocked silver wallpaper and misty-filtered visages of late, great Tinseltown stars that give you come-hither stares (either that or they’re eyeballing your ribs from the grave).

The Cabernet-colored leather banquettes have that sultry curve that makes a boring old table look like sweatpants at the Oscars. The atmosphere is all there, but that’s where the throwback glam ends.

It was a bit disconcerting to walk into the ’40s time warp only to have my own Gable-esque ears assaulted by Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are a-Changin.’” The song choice was both confusing and entirely appropriate. Sure the past is honored, but this is a neighborhood restaurant, not a shrine.

The staff couldn’t be nicer, with healthy doses of “sweetie” and “honey” thrown your way. But as steakhouses go, visit Cafe La Maze for everything but the steak. After trying both the New York strip and my favorite cut, the rib eye, at what should have been a tolerable medium, it was frustratingly clear that steak isn’t their strong suit.

First, I’m not sure what some kitchens have against salt and pepper, but Café La Maze isn’t using nearly enough to bring out the natural taste of a prime cut of cow. Perhaps the restaurant isn’t buying the best available cuts, but the lack of quality is evident while you’re sawing away at a medium pink that shouldn’t be as tough as the banquette upon which your rump is perched.

The Shrimp La Maze salad, like a Crab Louie, was fresh, hearty and colorful, although I have to dock points for finding the remainders of a squiggly black digestive tract (that’s the part they remove in the deveining process) on one of the shrimp. Plus, it’s hard to get too revved up about a composed salad that doesn’t take much in the way of advanced culinary skills.

There were enjoyable parts to the meal that slightly offset the wallet-tough meat. Upon being seated, we were met with warm homemade rolls that were just barely sweet and accompanied by a lovely cup of spreadable room-temperature butter. 

Though they were out of Potato Skins (cue a very sad Mr. City Eat and a confused me—who runs out of potato skins?), I was more than happy to dive into the sautéed mushrooms. Plump, buttery and lightly cooked in wine and garlic, those little buttons were delightful.

Their signature “Beef Bones,” Flintstone-style ribs you can buy one at a time, were fatty, tender and falling off the bone into a sweet barbecue sauce. I’d take a plate of those with a side of mushrooms over a disappointing filet any day.

Before your eyes adjust after walking into the windowless space, Café La Maze at first has the closed-in feel of a Bully’s or Red Fox Room. But this friendly restaurant for locals has a brighter energy, with a small bar and stage on one end of the modestly sized room. It’s a groovy part of San Diego’s history with a moderately priced steakhouse menu. Just don’t bother with the steak.    

Write to jennym@sdcitybeat.com and editor@sdcitybeat.com.