You have to admire Christian Irabién’s persistence and patience. The 43-year-old Chihuahua-born, El Paso-raised chef has been working for seven years to open Amparo, his lively, loving celebration of Mexican cuisine.
The journey to open Amparo (meaning “shelter”) began with a seed of an idea back in 2016, which materialized as a tostada-centric pop-up in 2017. An appearance at the New Kitchens on the Block food festival (full disclosure: I am the event’s co-creator) followed in 2018, as well as other well-received appearances. All the while, the chef was looking for a home for his concept. Originally, Mount Pleasant seemed like the best fit; then it was La Cosecha by Union Market; neither worked out.
When the pandemic hit, he put Amparo on the back burner, pivoting to open Muchas Gracias down the block from Politics and Prose in upper Northwest, originally a takeout focused pop-up offering comforting Mexican favorites such as taco kits, beans and rice, and tres leches cake, which helped him win a RAMMY Award for Rising Culinary Star of the Year in 2022. (Muchas Gracias later became a full-time restaurant, and Irabién is no longer involved with the project.)
After taking some time off and getting married last October, he restarted his quest to locate a home for Amparo. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a 2,400-square-foot address in Dupont Circle previously home to Pesce, originally founded in 1993 by famed chefs Jean–Louis Palladin and Roberto Donna and operated by chef Andrew LaPorta until his death in 2021. The history of the space appealed to Irabién, as did all the embassies and international organizations nearby. The easy Metro access didn’t hurt. The 50-seat, railroad-style restaurant, which opened at the beginning of November, exudes cozy vibes with low ceilings and flashes of Mexican art throughout, including several fantastical alebrijes. Irabién wants it to feel like you’re in a friend’s home, and he succeeds.
Divided into small, medium, and large share-size entrees, the dinner menu weaves between rustic and homestyle to refined and haute minded. This is not born of indecision, rather the chef’s acknowledgment that we all do contain multitudes. “You’re told you must decide if you’re super fine dining or super casual, but I don’t subscribe to that because I’m not just one thing,” Irabién says.
At the heart of Amparo is his idea for recreating his grandparents’ Yucatan-style seafood restaurant, the Fisherman’s Cove, which they operated in El Paso, Texas, in the early to late 1990s. It was a family affair. His cousins and uncles worked there, his mother did the books, and he, not always happily, washed dishes and bused tables when he was a teenager.
The chef evokes that time in his life with the menu’s Siete Mares (Seven Seas), which he equates to Mexican-style bouillabaisse. Seared scallop, shrimp, mussels, clams, and whatever other shellfish they have on hand swims in tomato-rich broth, accented with cumin and oregano. It’s a more refined and restrained version of what his grandfather would make. “He would go all out,” Irabién says. “He’d load it with octopus, squid, clams, and this and that. Food cost was nothing we worried about.”
Seafood is a focal point at Amparo, including sweeping raw bar selections. Make sure to inquire about the ceviche, evolving with the season and what’s fresh from the fishmonger. I enjoyed a rendition with fluke sitting in papaya-Fuyu persimmon aguachile, cilantro, and serrano adding points of pep. Another showstopper: whole snapper butterflied on a bed of whatever’s fresh; now it’s a flurry of squash—carnival, delicata, honeynut, and end-of-the-season corn.
For a more terrestrial option, go with the chile relleno taking its cues from Irabién’s childhood. The family often traveled between Chihuahua to El Paso by bus, which made a pit stop in a small town at the midway point. Everyone piled off to grab a bite to eat. Armed with the money he’d diligently saved for the occasion, Irabién headed straight to the stand offering chile relleno burritos. He’d buy half a dozen and then grab a fistful of raw onions to scatter on them. Irabién would spend the second half of the journey savoring his purchases, dozing off in between. The version of the dish he offers at Amparo hews classic: a roasted poblano chili stuffed to the brim with chihuahua cheese, the whole shebang dipped in egg batter and lightly fried. The hefty torpedo arrives in a simple tomato sauce “like my grandmother would make,” says Irabién. “It’s super simple, but it hits all the feels for people.”
The sopesitos—born out of the idea for a snacky, shareable starter that could work in lieu of a breadbasket—are the perfect encapsulation of Irabién’s talent: traditional, but irreverent; playful, but practical; beautiful, but not fussy. The DIY platter stars just-bigger-than-an-Oreo fried masa discs with ridged edges to keep in everything you pile on, including beans, avocado, sour cream, cheese, onions, salsa, and optional proteins, such as shark carnitas and lamb barbacoa.
For a more American indulgence, Irabién devised a double-decker burger taking cues from an al pastor taco. The beef is kneaded with adobo sauce powered with chilies, garlic, and orange juice; there’s a ramekin of the sauce on the side for dunking. The pair of patties arrive on a sesame-speckled Martin’s potato bun with grilled onion and pineapple, Oaxacan cheese, and guajillo chili mayo (also on the side for dipping). To fill out the plate, there’s a chile de arbol-spiced pickle spear and oven baked potato wedges with fluffy centers.
Desserts are straightforward: berry-bedazzled tres leches and flan glistening with brown sugar caramel. The bar program offers a selection of Mexican beers and wines, as well as radiantly colored cocktails that brighten up the table and the palate. Don’t sleep on the vanilla-laced horchata made with jasmine rice, a soothing, slightly floral counterpoint to the meal.
In keeping with Irabién’s desire for Amparo to be many things, it features a small, work-in-progress retail space by the bar where folks can pop in to browse a tightly curated selection of packaged goods—chilies, chocolates, mezcals, and dried grasshoppers—along with fresh tortillas made with corn from vendors Masienda and Tamoa in a rainbow of hues: blues, yellows, reds, pinks, and blacks. There’s also a ghost kitchen, Tacos El Gabacho, offering classic Mexican fare, such as tacos, burritos, and quesadillas, which should be on delivery platforms soon.
Amparo Fondita, 2002 P St. NW (202) 621-8166. amparofondita.com