How do you say ‘Beard winner Michael Smith’ in Spanish? Cocobolos

A star deserves marquee billing, and James Beard Award–winning Michael Smith gets it with the two-month-old Cocobolos, in the PrairieFire complex at 135th Street and Nall. “Cocobolos by Michael Smith” is how the restaurant is billed on its menus, in line with Smith’s status as an iconic local eponym. The Overland Park place joins, of course, his namesake restaurant at 20th Street and Main — half of the dining duplex that he runs with the livelier, less expensive Extra Virgin. To a certain caste of hungry locals, Smith’s name is as familiar and as reliable as that of barbecue kingpin Ollie Gates.

If the main part of the new restaurant’s name sounds vaguely familiar, it’s because an outpost of a popular Manhattan, Kansas, restaurant — Coco Bolos New Mexican Wood-Fired Grill and Cantina — came and went fairly quickly in Leawood, back in 2006. There’s a minor connection between the Michael Smith Cocobolos and the Manhattan restaurant (borne out by a couple of dishes on Smith’s menu that nod at the other place), but none to the ill-fated joint in south JoCo.

Smith and his wife, Nancy, own a significant percentage of the attractive Mexican bistro in PrairieFire (and are there frequently), and the menu is Smith’s creation, down to his version of one of those Aggieville plates, the Tijuana Train Wreck, which uses different ingredients. (What is it? Think school-lunch enchilada mashup: soft, chewy, weird, delicious, and served in a small cast-iron skillet.)

“Nancy and I went to the Manhattan restaurant a couple of times to check it out before we agreed to the project,” Smith tells me — and that’s all he’ll say about the business side of things. (His and Nancy’s co-owners are silent partners.)

The restaurant echoes the energy and vitality of Extra Virgin, with its flourishes of urban hipness. The vivid-red Cocobolos dining room boasts a mural and several paintings by local artist Scribe. “His work evokes the graffiti on Mexican streets and has a big, almost cartoonish quality while still being sophisticated and appealing,” Smith says.

He could say the same about much of his menu at Cocobolos, with its splashy versions of tacos, enchiladas and tostadas. Smith’s imagination exceeds reality here and there among his creations. I’m thinking in particular of a “Mexican
crudite” platter, with crunchy slices of jicama and cucumber and a jumble of fresh pineapple wedges arranged over a slick of ineffectual orange marinade. Too much color, not enough flavor. But that’s a rare misstep on a menu dominated by successes.

A starter of grilled oysters came out fresh and slightly smoky the night I sampled them. They were served under an almost evanescent scrim of unobtrusive but potent chili-infused bacon butter. It finds a ready complement in Smith’s guava-glazed bacon shrimp. That dish benefits from a hot-sweet guava barbecue sauce, the same that comes with the smoked pork ribs here. Those exquisitely tender ribs are a must, by the way. I almost gnawed them to the bone when I tried them.

A braised pork roast is equally tender but a lot brassier (thanks to a punchy ancho-chile rub). And Smith’s south-of-the-border spin on hanger steak — so ill-prepared in many local restaurants that I’ve nearly given up ordering it — is as soft and delectable as a tenderloin, slow-cooked before being tossed on the grill, then sliced against the grain and dappled with a luscious, cilantro-heavy salsa verde.

The five taco choices can be mixed and matched in sets of three for $10. The three I’d have again tomorrow: beef tongue with roasted jalapeños, machaca chicken with crumbled bacon and poblanos rajas, and a superb crispy pork with pineapple and queso verde. Mind you, three tacos aren’t terribly filling here, unless you’ve overindulged on the thick tortilla chips and the trio of salsas (a citrusy tomatillo, a smoky chipotle and an unfortunately bland house sauce) and, say, a summery salad of crispy jicama, cucumbers and peanuts.

This being a Smith restaurant, the desserts are generally worth considering. Perhaps softened up by the Train Wreck, I found myself ordering the “banana split,” made with caramelized bananas, two scoops of Christopher Elbow ice cream and scads of whipped cream. That same genuine whipped cream also alights, in a great fluffy cloud, atop a frosty glass jar filled with coconut custard on a blanket of gingersnap crumbs. “I wanted a coconut cream pie,” Smith says, “but not a traditional pie.” Good idea — it’s soothing and refreshingly cool after an evening of peppery dishes.

In the weeks since Cocobolos opened, Tom Harley — the gifted former chef at Mission’s long-gone MelBee’s restaurant — joined Smith’s kitchen staff. He’s learning to execute all of the Cocobolos dishes to Smith’s exacting standards. “When he’s really gotten rolling,” Smith says, “we’ll have Tom create some really cool dinner specials.”

Make no mistake, though — the place isn’t going to stop being a Smith production. Even at a lovingly cartoonified cantina like this, his touch is both evident and exciting. It really is Cocobolos by Michael Smith.