Everything's crisp at Chicken Lisa's

There is no shortage of good Mexican restaurants scattered among the 40 miles between my home and Chicken Lisa’s, but we press on. We think we’re getting close when we start to spot Escondido freeway exits, but the mapping software says there’s another 12 minutes of driving ahead. That’s because Chicken Lisa’s sits about as far out as Escondido gets, up in the old North Broadway neighborhood, just beyond a wooden community sign welcoming folks to Escondido Hills. Beyond that, San Diego County mostly peters out into scrubby slopes and the occasional country club another 15 miles to Fallbrook.

We’ve held our appetite all this way because I’ve recently learned something about the six-year-old restaurant: if you love crispy chicken skin, it’s the place to be.

The full name of the place is Chicken Lisa's and Your Mexican Favorites, and that doesn’t even tell the whole story, because in a second part of the restaurant (if you turn left inside the entrance) there’s a beer and wine bar called Frankie's at Chicken Lisa's.

That part’s set up for sipping suds and watching sports on TV while you sample the house chicken. And if anything, the restaurant side is even more casual. It’s a counter shop built along one side of a long, narrow dining room with patios at both ends. Any vibe caters to the suburban locale, its bright yellow walls hung with tchotchkes and eclectic artwork.

Behind the counter, spatchcocked chickens are lined up on a grill, charbroiling till the meat is tender and that skin is crisp. Crisp like thinnest of crackers, but with the craveable blend of schmaltz and savory seasonings: garlic, cumin, chile, maybe paprika. I order the half chicken combo ($11), and choose fries as one of the sides. These too, are uncommonly crisp, battered before they hit the deep fryer.

But but I’m not thinking about potatoes when I wrap a few hunks of thigh meat, crispy skin, and salsa into a flour tortilla. From the first bite, I’m feeling really great about driving all this way. It’s the charbroiled chicken-style behind El Pollo Loco’s success, only done much better.

The half chicken combo, with uncommonly crispy charbroiled chicken (and fries). And the chicken may not even be the best thing on the menu.

On a second, $11 combo plate, we dig into something nearly as crispy: carnitas. A hefty portion comes slathered with fresh guacamole and served with red rice and cheesy refried beans. I take to this plate with corn tortillas, but the result is the same. The carnitas are marvelously simple: just enough brine to embellish the pork, which is slow cooked tender and juicy, then pulled into pieces that are seared to a crisp before serving.

“This might be the real story here,” my wife tells me, between bites. It’s about the only conversation we can muster at Chicken Lisa’s. The food has all our attention, as it should. There’ll be plenty of time to talk on the ride home.