Don Juan Bar & Grill, Toledo

Don Juan Bar & Grill is located in Franklin Park Mall, in Toledo. My wife and I decided to try the food as part of a never-ending quest to visit all restaurants. Anywhere. Everywhere. Well, we are foodies, after all.  

On a recent outing to Franklin Park, we took our 7-year-old daughter along and (after an hour of shopping, riding the little train, and getting lost twice!) we stopped-in at Don Juan’s. We were seated at a booth against the windows that look into the mall. Across the hall, a shop was working on eyebrows. I was watching to see if anyone emerged from the shop looking “surprised”. The sushi place next door was dead. 

A friendly waiter brought chips and salsa—hot and mild—to the table.  We studied the surroundings, looked over the menu. 

Time for some drinks. Uh-oh. Oh, boy. “Should we try them,” I asked my wife. 

I’m reluctant. The dreaded margarita is where Mexican joints in this town try to make a name for themselves; the stronger, the better, with little to no care at all about the taste, the ingredients, the balance of flavors. They were available in a variety of colors. We ordered them. They came. They were big, heavy, and strong. I already had my napkin ready to wipe the salt off of the rim, because, though I ordered mine without salt, I knew it would arrive otherwise. Most places cannot help themselves, they just have to put salt on the rim. It’s really not optional, I guess. 

The menu was loaded with the usual Mexican restaurant fare: sizzling fajitas, tacos, giant burritos, and combo platters. Some dishes included refried beans, and some came with black beans, which I’ve always found more interesting. 

We ordered the botana: chips smothered in refried beans and melted cheese, then  topped with tomatoes, onions, peppers, sliced avocados, jalapeños, and sour cream. I had to order it. Since moving to T-town, this is the first time I’ve seen it on a menu. It didn’t disappoint...much. It was on the small side. I didn’t notice any lettuce or olives. The beans were thick and pasty, but not bad-tasting. The toppings were fresh.  As an appetizer, a botana can be heavy. It’ll ruin your appetite if it’s tasty enough, and you eat too much of it. 

We set that aside and I ordered the chicken soup, “caldo” for my Spanish-speaking friends. It was a massive bowl. It contained chunks of chicken breast and big, chopped vegetables like zucchini, carrots, and potatoes (skin-on). That’s Mexican style. Usually there’s half a corn-on-the-cob floating around in there.  The seasonings were familiar: salt, pepper, mildly cumin-ish, cilantro.  The soup was topped with half of an avocado, sliced. That was a nice surprise. I felt like this elevated the soup, slightly, as it seems to be trendy, of late, to raise the bar for food that comes in bowls by adding uncommon ingredients: slices of cheese, roasted garlic, ancient grains, buckwheat noodles, etc. But I digress. This soup wasn’t going to be remembered for its ingredients or its intense flavor (which wasn’t there), but what I did appreciate was the soup’s...clarity. The broth was thin and translucent. It gave the soup a fresh, therapeutic character, uncontaminated, pure.  It tasted clean. Plus, it was cold outside, so hot, clear broth was good. The dish came with a side of rice and beans. 

My wife ordered three carne asada tacos, on soft corn tortillas. If you’ve eaten at a “taqueria” or had “street tacos” at other restaurants, this will look familiar: minced pieces of steak, cilantro, onions. It’s served with lime wedges and pico de gallo—a chopped relish of tomato, cilantro, onion, salt, pepper, and sometimes lime, garlic, and jalapeño.  

The tacos were good—better than expected. These are the traditional double-wrapped variety. If you’ve heard me whine about corn tortillas on this blog before, you know I’m not big on eating one of them, let alone putting-down six in one sitting. 

Carna asada is a simple dish, relying heavily on the elements incorporated into the steak: char, tenderness, savoriness. A squeeze of lime adds another dimension. 

My daughter got the child’s combination plate.  It came with a hard taco and an enchilada. They were both typical of what you’d expect from other restaurants: store-bought shell, ground beef. The enchilada was lots of cheese, little flavor. But it was refreshing that her meal included a drink. 

I liked the atmosphere of Don Juan’s. Being close to the mall entrance, tucked into a corner, the restaurant had a quiet,  private feeling, like it was separate from Franklin Park. But it was still lively; upbeat, Latin-pop played, overhead. The interior was decorated in that dark-wood and terra cotta, “Mexico” look. There were plenty of booths along the wall and tables throughout. The staff was friendly. The service was prompt. In all, we had a pleasant experience at Don Juan, swaying to the music and enjoying our food. Or maybe we were swaying because of the margaritas.