I love Mexican food. I’m not gonna lie, because I can’t say I know what authentic Mexican food could possibly be really like, but I like almost anything I can get. Vancouver is good for having a variety of authentic cuisines available within reach, but (so I’ve heard) we’re sorely lacking in good Latin American restaurants. When I spot a Mexican restaurant that doesn’t look particularly frou-frou or clearly un-authentic, I immediately make a mental note of it to go back there when possible.

I’ve had Dona Cata filed away in the back of my mind for ages. I pass by it all the time when I go visit my grandmother, and when it resurfaces into my consciousness each time I try to come up with elaborate schemes wherein my grandmother and I would be forced to eat Mexican food even though we’re surrounded by Chinese food. You should understand that in my hypothetical fascist foodie reality coercion is almost always the only option because we clearly have to be eating the same thing if we’re eating together, and of course no one in my family particularly likes Mexican food (especially the older generation). It’s a Chinese thing, probably.

I was ridiculously excited to finally go to Dona Cata, but at the same time, the mystery has been somewhat lost. I was at the Food Expo a while back and I had the opportunity to eat cheap tacos (verdict: NOM) Dona Cata-style already. However, there was still magic involved! The restaurant is an adorable little establishment, guaranteeing that at least your eyes won’t go hungry amidst the explosion of color and decorations.

I am clearly not an actual food blogger because after telling you about how interesting the interior is, I don’t really have any pictures of the inside. You’ll just have to make do via a little thing I like to call your Imaginationâ„¢. Oh wait, wait. No. I lie to you with my eyes open. I have one right here. Look at this:

I kid you not, MEXICAN TALK. Baby, you can talk Mexican to me any day, my little love empanada.

I guess I’ll take this time now to discuss the food a little before you throw up in your mouth any more. Starting off with a plate of nachos, I was a bit puzzled as to why there was no salsa. No salsa? NO SALSA? Are we in crazy neversalsaland? In fact, we were in some kind of salsa heaven. There were all kinds of salsa.

Being a wuss who can’t take the heat, I opted for the least spicy looking salsas. Of course being a huge failure at judgment I picked one that was mighty hot, and logically following the lapse in judgment went all out and put a massive glob in my mouth. It was one of the worst ideas I might’ve had in a long while.

I did have the good idea of ordering una cerveza though. It was very enjoyable: first of all, it was in a can (Corona? In a can? Why I never!) and was accompanied by a frosty mug rimmed with lime and salt. Wow. Why can’t I have beer like this everyday? Amazing.

We had two tacos each and shared a special plate of deluxe tacos that were slightly larger than the regular ones, and had bits of cactus in it. Pretty badass, if you ask me. I picked chicken and pulled pork, the latter quite obviously the superior one. The double soft taco shells served up on checkered greasepaper in a tiny basket just makes it work.

If the small size tacos were unwieldy for consumption, the larger one didn’t make it any easier to eat. It was largely well worth the effort, though, if you’re like me. I have no qualms making sure all of the food in front of me is shoveled neatly into my yap. If you see the lighter and darker green slices those are avocado and the cactus bits. Good stuff. The cactus was kind of pickly and a bit vinegary – went pretty well with the roasted meat.

With my impeccable timing I ordered a horchata long after the spice had ravaged my palate, the steam already dissipating from my scorched licker. No matter – this stuff is like crack, and if something is like crack, then any time is a good time for stuff-like-crack. Why is this stuff so amazing? My first sip was deliciousness incarnate – what is this? Liquid churros? Holy mother. I am in love. If/when I eventually devolve into a coma please put this stuff into my IV drip.

I’m pretty sure it’s just some sickening combination of milk, sugar, and cinnamon, and I love it. When I got to the bottom of my glass there was a void in my existence that just got filled. It’s good stuff, if you like cinnamon and just good things in general.

I like Dona Cata – I enjoyed the tacos and the adorable little setup restaurant-wise. When asked what Dona Cata meant, it essentially meant Grandma Cata (if there’s a better translation for it, I don’t know it) or … elder Cata. There’s a great portrait of her up on the wall, watching over taco lovers, hands firmly clasped over their foodstuffs and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

(Intermission: this is the part of the post where I fell asleep writing, and literally woke up to a page full of z’s and then a random assortment of letters. Moving on.)

I’m not even sure how to end this anymore. I liked coming here, but I don’t know if the food was really incredible. If I were in the area again I would definitely drop by, but I wouldn’t make it my mission to cross Vancouver to get here. It is a fun little place once you get there, though, so I say do give it a try.

» Dona Cata on 5076 Victoria Dr on 35th Ave [604-436-2232]