Greater Orlando seems to be the world capital of chain restaurants, which presents a challenge when you’re in the mood for good Mexican. Don Pablo’s blanded-out mediocrity gets old real quick, and sometimes I want something more than just grabbing a to-go burrito, in which case I usually head for the nearest Chipotle; it’s convenient if nothing else. When I want good Mexican, however, I almost always go to El Potro (it means “the colt”). This place has been around since the 1980s, although I didn’t discover it until the following decade.
There are locations in Apopka and Oviedo (and one coming soon to Conway), but I’m a loyal fan of the Winter Park branch. Why do I like El Potro? There are several reasons. For one thing, as soon as I walk in I’m greeted with a warm “Hola, señor Gregorio.” Yes, the staff knows me because I’m a frequent customer, but they extend the same hospitality to everyone. If the owner is there he’ll come over to say hello, and invariably we have this exchange:
Pablo: Señor Gregorio!
Me: Hola Pablo! Que pasa?
Pablo: Nada, nada. Heh heh heh.
It’s inconsequential, yes—but I can count on that personal interaction. And right off the bat I feel welcome.
The dining area is smallish, nothing fancy. But there are colorful paintings and Mexican tchotchkes lined up on wall shelves. The booths are comfortable (I always sit in a booth). Usually there’s recorded mariachi music playing (if the portable wall TV isn’t tuned to a soccer match). Workers converse in rapid-fire Spanish. When the servers aren’t waiting on tables they’re wiping down the laminated menus or refilling salt and pepper shakers. There’s a sense of pride, and in a way it feels like you’re dining in someone’s home.
The food, you ask? I’ll start with the complimentary chips and salsa. I’m always grateful when there’s something to munch on while you peruse the menu, but at so many places chips and salsa is something to mindlessly consume before the good stuff comes out. Not here. El Potro’s chips are warm. They’re also thin, crisp and greaseless. The salsa is smooth, not chunky, but it’s not watery either. And it’s just hot enough, without crossing that line where you have to quench the fire with three Cokes before dinner even arrives. The combination is addictive—and how often can you truly say that about chips and salsa?
El Potro advertises “real Mexican food,” and it’s a pretty solid claim. Sizzle and smoke announces the arrival of chicken fajitas, 
a nice big serving of seasoned strips of poultry, bell peppers, onions and tomatoes. I ask for corn instead of flour tortillas, and I pour some of my salsa on top of the side of rice and beans and mix it all together. Take my word for it; this is a yummy meal. Beef eaters should try the bistec a la Tampiqueña, a rib-eye steak hiding under a heap of grilled onions. If I don’t want meat I get the vegetarian fajitas, a pile of sauteed peppers, onions, tomatoes, spinach, fresh mushrooms and a dollop of guacamole served with refried beans; it’s delicious.
Beer and wine are available at the Winter Park location, with a full bar at the others. And although I don’t imbibe myself, I understand that the house margarita is highly regarded.
If you go through two baskets of chips and dinner, like I usually do, dessert is unnecessary. But if a sweet ending is needed I can vouch for the flan. This is not fine dining, but it sure is satisfying. Give El Potro a try, and tell Pablo that Señor Gregorio sent you.
The Winter Park El Potro is in the K-Mart shopping center at the corner of Lee Road and N. Orlando Avenue (US 17/92), next to Lifestyle Fitness. They have a website, but note that it still lists the Sanford location that closed last year.
