When word spread ‘round the campfire that a cowboy-themed Mexican breakfast spot had opened up in Chula Vista, I knew it was time to saddle up my trusty 2007 Honda CR-V and head yonder across the plain (about a mile and a half west of the 805) in search of some good-morning victuals.

From the get-go, there was a whiff of theme park attraction to the place: viz., the wrought-iron horse guarding the entrance to a rustic shack and the sign above the door: “Vive La Experiencia Del Viejo Oeste.” As with any good theme ride, if you want to "Live the Experience of the Old West" here, prepare to stand in line. Desayunos Del Prieto opened in June but has remained buzzy, drawing crowds even on weekdays.
My wait was brief, though, and I was soon ushered in and given a spot at the bar, where I was immediately handed a welcome basket of delicious, soft pan dulces – a flaky square filled with manzana and a little bigote de azúcar croissant. I decided they would do well with some dipping, and ordered a café de olla ($5.50), the traditional Mexican spiced coffee brewed with cinnamon and cane sugar, to fit the bill.

Having been handily charmed via the douceur of free pastries, I consulted with the waitress on my opening move; she assured me the Chilaquiles Norteños ($15.98) were hands down the most popular offering. Chilaquiles — fried tortilla chips covered with a wide variety of toppings — can provide a wildly unpredictable experience. Some regional variations hardly seem like the same dish. But one trait that almost all of them share is a certain urgency: you’ve got to chow down before the chips sog into mealy oblivion under the weight of their saucy bounty. (Pro tip: never, ever order chilaquiles for take out or delivery.)

The Norteño variety, happily, is one of themore structurally sound alternatives, characterized by crispier, more well-done chips topped with more sturdy meat (in this case, carne asada) and melted jack cheese than ranchera salsa. Desayuno Del Prieto’s chilaquiles also feature a matrix of rajas de chiles toreados. These slices of smoky, dried chili peppers scattered across a mountain range of chips proved to be the key to making the whole thing pop. I washed it all down with a genuinely massive glass stein of excellent cucumber agua fresca ($6.89).

Brunch food is comfort food, and my classic chile relleno ($16.99) — a welcoming island in a sea of rich, garlicky salsa ranchera laced with bands of crema, alongside a helpful tortillero packed with piping hot corn tortillas for mopping everything up — had me briefly daydreaming about napping on a breaded chile pillow. (To the Notes app with that one, maybe; see: inventions sub-folder).

The TV above the bar showed a roughstock rodeo, and I found myself contemplating life on the range. And while I suspect I’m ultimately a little more Three Amigos, cowboy-wise, than I am Fernando Sancho, I do believe I'll mosey down the road again soon to try the machaca.

When word spread ‘round the campfire that a cowboy-themed Mexican breakfast spot had opened up in Chula Vista, I knew it was time to saddle up my trusty 2007 Honda CR-V and head yonder across the plain (about a mile and a half west of the 805) in search of some good-morning victuals.

From the get-go, there was a whiff of theme park attraction to the place: viz., the wrought-iron horse guarding the entrance to a rustic shack and the sign above the door: “Vive La Experiencia Del Viejo Oeste.” As with any good theme ride, if you want to "Live the Experience of the Old West" here, prepare to stand in line. Desayunos Del Prieto opened in June but has remained buzzy, drawing crowds even on weekdays.
My wait was brief, though, and I was soon ushered in and given a spot at the bar, where I was immediately handed a welcome basket of delicious, soft pan dulces – a flaky square filled with manzana and a little bigote de azúcar croissant. I decided they would do well with some dipping, and ordered a café de olla ($5.50), the traditional Mexican spiced coffee brewed with cinnamon and cane sugar, to fit the bill.

Having been handily charmed via the douceur of free pastries, I consulted with the waitress on my opening move; she assured me the Chilaquiles Norteños ($15.98) were hands down the most popular offering. Chilaquiles — fried tortilla chips covered with a wide variety of toppings — can provide a wildly unpredictable experience. Some regional variations hardly seem like the same dish. But one trait that almost all of them share is a certain urgency: you’ve got to chow down before the chips sog into mealy oblivion under the weight of their saucy bounty. (Pro tip: never, ever order chilaquiles for take out or delivery.)

The Norteño variety, happily, is one of themore structurally sound alternatives, characterized by crispier, more well-done chips topped with more sturdy meat (in this case, carne asada) and melted jack cheese than ranchera salsa. Desayuno Del Prieto’s chilaquiles also feature a matrix of rajas de chiles toreados. These slices of smoky, dried chili peppers scattered across a mountain range of chips proved to be the key to making the whole thing pop. I washed it all down with a genuinely massive glass stein of excellent cucumber agua fresca ($6.89).

Brunch food is comfort food, and my classic chile relleno ($16.99) — a welcoming island in a sea of rich, garlicky salsa ranchera laced with bands of crema, alongside a helpful tortillero packed with piping hot corn tortillas for mopping everything up — had me briefly daydreaming about napping on a breaded chile pillow. (To the Notes app with that one, maybe; see: inventions sub-folder).

The TV above the bar showed a roughstock rodeo, and I found myself contemplating life on the range. And while I suspect I’m ultimately a little more Three Amigos, cowboy-wise, than I am Fernando Sancho, I do believe I'll mosey down the road again soon to try the machaca.
