Javier's: The Patron Perfect
What makes a great margarita? For too many, it’s a mixture of complex ingredients and over-the-top presentation—a chemistry lab combined with an art project—that frequently ends in disaster. The best margaritas are often the most traditional. Perhaps unsurprisingly, a restaurant that is itself a Dallas tradition serves up this straightforward-yet-excellent offering.
One of many animals that paid the ultimate price so that you might enjoy some phenomenal margaritas.
Opened in 1977, Javier’s is one of the longest consistently-running restaurants in the city. In that time, Javier’s has more than subsisted, it’s thrived. Arrive on any weekend night without a reservation and expect to wait at least an hour for a table in the main dining area; a labyrinthine series of rooms with dark wood paneling and décor befitting a big-game hunting lodge. The wait staff is clad in crisp white shirts and tuxedo vests. By all means become a 'regular,' but your tenure is unlikely to approach that of the staff. The service is both veteran and excellent.
In some ways, Javier's is a contradiction. The restaurant exudes modern Dallas—both for better and for worse. Indeed, juxtaposed against the classic, aged, and rustic furnishings are the patrons; a frequent combination of the Dallas social elite and peacocking 30-thousand-dollar millionaires. If you’re having difficulty telling them apart look for the cell phones. The latter group can be easily spotted taking pictures of the former, and otherwise ensuring every moment is fully captured on social media. And despite the variety of long-dead creatures on the walls, live cougars may be spotted nightly. Zing. To be clear, the people watching is often worth the price of admission.
“For better and for worse, Javier’s exudes Dallas.”
Leather furniture, a fireplace, no windows and you can smoke. Who said The Loon is dead?
The dining room isn’t the only attraction. When weather permits, Javier’s features one of the most enjoyable patios in the city. The modestly-sized outdoor area nestled at the north end of McKinney avenue is pleasantly adorned with trees, and has a large TV for sporting events.
Despite Dallas’s restaurant smoking ban—enacted in 2009—Javier’s cigar bar was grandfathered into the law and, consequently, aficionados may partake at will. Those who don’t smoke can simply enjoy the preposterously-comfortable leather chairs, fireplace, and low-key Mexican lounge music (until 10pm, when the playlist jarringly turns top-40). Ambiance in the cigar lounge is akin to the dining area; albeit with a limited menu, no chips and salsa, and the testosterone level cranked to eleven. Keep a dry cleaner on standby to avoid suspicions that you’ve developed a nasty smoking habit.
“All told this is an excellent margarita, served in a wholly-unique environment.”
There's a good chance you'll need a reservation if, in fact, you want to sit in one of these chairs
But onto the margarita, the Patron Perfect. The ingredients are simple: Patron Anejo, Cointreau, a bit of sweet and sour, and fresh lime juice. Served over rocks in a basic glass. The drink is absurdly smooth; likely a consequence of the tequila choice. Anejo tequilas are aged for at least one year, usually in oak barrels, which results in a much smoother finish. The lime juice, critical to any successful margarita, is consistently fresh and tart, which mixes well with the smoothness of the Anejo. The sweet and sour—which if not carefully portioned will engulf the flavor of a margarita—isn’t overpowering. Rather, it provides a pleasant layer of sweetness that isn't distracting. The choice to use Cointreau over triple sec is always appreciated here—although many disagree, and the debate between the two rages on. Ultimately, the practical consequence is that the Patron Perfect is stronger; as triple sec tops out at 30% alcohol content, while Cointreau is 40%. Plan your transportation—as well as your imminently regrettable text messages to various exes—accordingly.
All told, this is an excellent margarita, served in a wholly-unique environment. Its relatively steep price point is a drawback that—like your unfortunate text messages—will weigh less on your mind the more you consume.
FINAL SCORE: Four limes
