Three water refills, a clean table and cleared-out neighbors – all clues that our group was lingering, reluctant to end our night at Hatch. In a town peppered with Mexican fare, the brand new Hatch Taqueria & Tequilas adds a chic element to the mix. Think San Miguel de Allende meets Restoration Hardware – a fusion of Old World hacienda and clean contemporary that feels refreshing amid so much knotty pine and flannel.
For folks familiar with Jackson Hole, let me orient you: Hatch is the new occupant of the old Mountain High Pizza, the longtime pie-slinger off Town Square. While the hippie vibe of Mountain High is missed, Hatch brings a breath of fresh air to West Broadway. The interior transformation is stunning: the space, no longer encircled in pine booths, feels airy and modern. Candlelight flickers from lanterns perched on angular banquettes, and vintage lightbulbs beam from gorgeous pendants dangling from the high ceiling. Concrete tabletops atop black bistro bases pair well, a cobalt hutch hits the hacienda note, and bright paintings of lucha libre wrestlers add pops of color. French doors portend the fun to come in the summer, when they’ll swing open to patio seating and Pacifico draughts.
The modern aesthetic carries through to the menu: true to its name, tequila and tacos are well represented with nearly 50 of the former stacked behind the sleek bar (next time, I’m taking a tequila flight). Following the agave theme, mezcals make an appearance as well, neat and mixed in creative cocktails like A Mule Named Mezcal. The requisite array of margaritas ran the flavor gamut from traditional to spicy to exotic ( El Tamarindo). Tacos come in seven varieties, from classics like al pastor and carnitas to fresh takes like dorado and grilled poblano with pecans. The ceviche hit the citrus spot, with light chunks of dorado laced with lime and jalapeno, and the guacamole offered just enough kick and texture. Everyone at our table made delicious taco choices, peaking perhaps with the chipotle-rich carne barbacoa. My biggest regret: not ordering the churros. Our neighbors did, and the wafting aromas of cinnamon sugar almost made me linger longer. Next time, and there’s always a next time at a new roost as sharp as Hatch.