Cha Cha Cha

The first thing I notice when I walk into Cha Cha Cha, a space I knew very well as the former Beaker & Gray, is the music. “Toda La Vida” by Mexican ’80s heartthrob Emmanuel trails off into another retro track by Luis Miguel, and instantly I’m transported to family vacations in Acapulco and Cancun, where my parents would linger over plates of fresh aguachile. As far as first impressions go, Cha Cha Cha made a strong one.

The Mexico City restaurant, which also had a former life in Los Angeles, specializes in Baja cuisine, emphasizing fresh seafood and shareable plates you can easily picture yourself enjoying on a Mexican beach. If you only eat one thing, let it be the tostada de atun with crispy fried shallots—it rivals anything I’ve had at Mexico City’s famed seafood restaurant Contramar. The aguachile negro is a very close second, with sliced poached shrimp and avocado swimming in a mildly spicy, ink-colored onion ash sauce.

Having dined here solo and as part of a very large group, I can tell you Cha Cha Cha is a one-size-fits-most type of restaurant, especially if you have a taste for tequila-based cocktails and anything atop or inside a freshly made tortilla, including but not limited to the salbute de pollo (a cross between a chicken taco and a pliable tostada) and the carnitas, a tender confit pork shoulder served with optional rice and beans (mandatory, if you ask me). Add the chopped salad—you won’t regret the bonus mound of crunchy greens.

The space itself is warm, albeit a tad muted, with walnut wood tables and chairs offset by mustard and olive tones. It’s not in-your-face about its Mexican origins or Baja influences, lest you confuse it with a cringey chain restaurant. Cha Cha Cha doesn’t try too hard to transport you—it just quietly does.