Article by Chris Fellini with photos by Joshua Fitzwater
It’s a Saturday in the middle of July, around noon. I wake up to my dog whining at my bedroom door. He wants to go out; I want to linger a few more minutes in bed, savoring the rare day off. I wrestle myself from sleep and we start to make our way outside. The summer sun is already glaring down, and I’m damp before I even make it out of the building’s hallway. I get on my bicycle and we ride our way through the neighborhoods to the dog park in Colonial Place. I let my dog wear himself out for a couple hours before I grow restless and tired from the heat, and call my dog over so we can make our escape. My stomach is growling like a starved animal, so I make a detour on my way back.
We pull up to UMO and the patio is packed. Joe Pavey (chef and co-owner) is hurriedly pulling brisket off the smoker, sweat glistening on his forehead, as he rushes to replenish the kitchen’s stock and get the pork al pastor on in time for dinner service. There’s a group of frat guys from ODU playing what seems to be the most intense game of cornhole ever. Their boister voices almost overpower the rumble of voices at the picnic tables behind them as I lock up my bike and head into the gated outdoor area. I spot my friends Ben and Ashley at one of the tables and make my way over.
The table is littered with Tecate and PBR cans, as well as a small collection of cigarette butts piled in an empty paper tray that contains the remnants of someone’s taco. The server comes over and I order a michelada. The michelada is like a Mexican Bloody Mary, but UMO throws a little Maggi in the mix to up the umami factor. Ashley offers me some of her chicken pibil. Ben’s a vegan, so if I don’t eat any it’s just gonna go to waste. The pibil reminds me of pulled pork, both texture and taste. Pavey seasons it just like you would BBQ, and it’s very Tex-Mex. The added touch of fennel that he throws into everything he can (the man even has a tattoo of a hog eating a fennel bulb on his calf) sneaks a touch of that something-you-can’t-quite-peg into the meat. The house made tortilla chips are sturdy enough to hold up to the weight of the chicken, and before I know it I’ve polished off the rest of it. I’m still hungry, so I decide to order some tacos to wash down with my michelada.
(above- tofu and shrimp tacos)
Ben got a couple of the tofu tacos, and tries to persuade me into ordering them. He tells me how the fried tofu is still super soft in the middle and reminds him of the creaminess of cheese. I’m not really feeling tofu today, though. I’m torn between the brisket tacos and the shrimp tacos. I’ve had the brisket tacos before, and my mouth begins to water as I think about the tender slow cooked meat. Pavey smokes the brisket for three hours, then braises for another three.The chimichurri seasoning packs a lot of punch and adds a fair amount of tang. The meat itself, while loaded with smokiness, is muted in flavor and acts as a canvas for the other components in the taco. I decide to go for the shrimp tacos, though, because it’s as hot as Satan’s asshole, and I don’t feel like being loaded down with a bunch of red meat in my gut. I order two shrimp tacos and an horchata.
(above- brisket taco)
Horchata is a traditional rice milk drink spiced with cinnamon and slightly sweet. Gabe Baesen (bar manager and co-owner, along with brother Al) prides himself on making his own in house. It took many a trial and error session to get his horchata to where it’s at now, and although it’s a little gritty still, it’s definitely closer in taste to what I remember from the west coast and Texas than even Jessy’s in Ocean View. It’s like a runny milkshake and the perfect companion to spicy food. My tacos come out, and the shrimp are coated in the chimichurri seasoning. I bite in, and my mouth pops with a blast of citrus from the cabbage. The pickled onion pairs perfectly with the cabbage, and my tongue is awash in sweet and sour. All of the tacos at UMO come as God intended tacos to: on a double layer of soft corn tortillas to soak up any extra liquid from the filling. I get halfway through the first one, before I reach for the house made table hot sauce to add some extra heat. I scarf both tacos down, finish my horchata, and order a Tecate from the server.
(above- UMO decor)
We linger at the table for several more hours, and the sun slowly makes it’s way closer to the horizon. The bugs begin to come out, and we soon grow tired of being attacked by the swarms of gnats and mosquitos. We chug the last of our beers, pay our tabs, and head for the gate. I ride home with my dog and succumb to a booze induced sleepiness. I lay down on my couch to take a nap, before going out again to a show at Taphouse. I never get up from my nap, and when I wake up it’s morning. It’s April 22nd, the day after UMO’s grand opening. I have to be to work in an hour, and my dog is whining at my bedroom door. There’s still a comfortable spring breeze in the air as I walk him, but I’m disappointed that it’s not July. I’m disappointed that I have to work today, and that it was all just a dream built from my memories of the night before. I long for the summertime days of cold micheladas and hot nights. Summer’s not that far away, and when arrives you know where to find me. I’ll be at one of the picnic tables, taco in one hand and glass of horchata in the other.
Umo is located at 4117 Granby St. Norfolk, VA
Umo’s website http://www.umonorfolk.com/
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