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By Julie Lay
Photograph by Katherine Bish

Ah, tequila! Whether you view the amber liquid as a feisty friend or fickle foe, it’s a drink that inspires memories—or memory lapses—for almost everyone. El Scorcho embraces both and fuses them together at a teeny Maplewood space garishly decorated in the colors of fire.

Looking for a cheap tequila fix? Only drink the smoothest   anejo? The bar boasts 40 tequilas, ranging from the tolerable to the triple-distilled, from $6 a shot to the $42 sampling of Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo Uno.

Not looking to sip the devil’s drink straight from the bottle? El Scorcho also offers up a menu of tequila     cócteles. The Margarita de Casa, an overly sweet house margarita, doesn’t pack much of a tequila punch, as is the case with most house margs. Then there’s the Cosmoquita ... a cosmopolitan that replaces the vodka with—you guessed it—tequila. There’s a reason people don’t use tequila in cosmos, folks: It doesn’t work. The combination tastes acrid.

But no night of tequila consumption would be complete without overindulging in gut-busting Mexican food. El Scorcho’s menu includes Tex-Mex renditions of all the traditional favorites.

Slow-cooked beef brisket is decent enough, though not nearly as tender as the cut allows. It is drizzled with a bland barbecue sauce, no salvation for the lackluster beef. The tacos from the “Too Sexy Mexi Texi Especial” section fare better. Shredded cabbage instead of lettuce and chipotle ranch in place of taco sauce add some snap to the Mexican staple. As with most offerings, tacos come with your choice of steak, chicken, fish, veggies or any barbecue meat.

After I asked for a side-dish suggestion, a bartender told me, simply, “The mac ’n’ cheese is the [expletive].” Who can argue with logic like that? So I ordered the “Maco & Cheeso,” but it actually turned out to be dry and bland.

Another side choice, the “Viva la Frickles”—pickles, battered and fried—were extremely good. Being a huge fan of fried pickles, I was skeptical, but these delivered. Instead of the typical beer-battered spears with a side of ranch, El Scorcho offered slices of dill coated in crunchy cornmeal, served with a zesty Tex-Mex sauce—a delicious take on an offbeat offering.

The best item at El Scorcho, hands down, is the Huevos Rancheros. I ordered mine sin meat, and they were amazing. Two crispy tortillas are topped with beans, cheese, two fried eggs, pico and green onions—a combination that is out of this world. Unlike many versions, with soggy tortillas and overpowering cheese, this was flawless—the perfect blend of spicy, yolky and crispy.

Though the food is generally above average, El Scorcho is mostly about tequila and ’tude. While at the bar, we witnessed a fortysomething patron and his girlfriend consume several shots, then proceed directly into a devil-may-care PDA in front of the entire congregation. This lively lad and his promiscuous lass both ruined and made the evening. It was inappropriate and a little gross, yet seemed like the type of entertainment to be expected at a    tequileria, even at 7:00 on a Tuesday evening.

Final impressions are important, and El Scorcho will leave you smiling—sort of: Mounted on the wall next to the door is a wicker “Complaints” box that, when opened, reveals a golden hand saluting your departure with the flash of a chubby middle digit. Adios, suckers!