Carnal’s take on modern Mexican cuisine—does it live up to the hype?

As someone who grew up surrounded by the authentic flavors of Mexican home cooking, I approach upscale Mexican cuisine with a healthy dose of skepticism. My childhood was filled with homemade gorditas, caldo de pollo, sopita de fideo, enchiladas, tamales and other holiday staples—cooked with the kind of care and tradition that’s hard to replicate in a restaurant setting.

One of my gripes about the L.A. food scene is how often it leans into influencer-driven trends, where aesthetics can sometimes overshadow substance. This made me all the more curious to check out Carnal, an Oaxacan-style restaurant that had recently earned a spot on L.A.’s list of hottest new restaurants. Located in Highland Park, the area offers convenient access, ample parking and a variety of nearby restaurants and bars.

I stopped by the restaurant on a whim, not knowing what to expect, and was pleased to find the atmosphere refreshingly low-key and casual. I arrived early, anticipating a crowd, but I was seated immediately at the bar counter—perfect for catching a glimpse of the kitchen in action.

The seating is primarily arranged "community-style," with a long communal table designed to foster conversation and a shared dining experience. Our waitress talked us through the menu, offering insight into both the fan favorites and the dishes they personally recommended.

The meal began with a complimentary starter: fermented pineapples soaked in a vinegar-based marinade and topped with a savory seasoning. It was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted—a lively balance of spice and tartness that not only intrigued my palate but also served as a refreshing cleanse before the main courses arrived.

For the appetizer, we chose the Aguachile Rosa, a delicate composition of finely sliced beetroot, cauliflower, onion, lime juice and cucumber. The vibrant pinkish-red hue of the dish made an immediate visual impact, but it was the explosion of bold, layered flavors that truly captivated me. The dish was simultaneously fresh and complex—difficult to describe but unforgettable in its execution. If you're a vegetarian who longs for the vibrant, briny flavors of mariscos but doesn't eat seafood, this is a must-try. It beautifully captures the essence of those familiar coastal flavors in a wholly new form.

One of the standout dishes we ordered was the Lengua a la Veracruzana. I’m not afraid to admit that lengua has a special place in my heart. My mother’s tacos de lengua, a childhood staple, are forever etched in my memory, so I approach any variation of the dish with a sense of nostalgia and high expectations.

This rendition, however, is far from traditional. The Lengua a la Veracruzana is an elevated take on the classic, and it succeeds in all the right ways. The meat itself is impeccably tender, yet the preparation adds a surprising layer of texture: a crisp, almost caramelized exterior that contrasts beautifully with the melt-in-your-mouth interior. What truly elevates the dish is the accompanying sauce—a vibrant blend of tomatoes, olives, sofrito, and chile güero—which strikes a delicate balance of sweetness and savory depth. For those who prefer their Mexican fare on the subtler side, this dish is a revelation: the sweetness of the meat and sauce, paired with perfectly cooked white rice, creates a harmonious, nuanced flavor profile that feels both comforting and refined.

The second main dish we tried was the Aztec Duck, an elegant presentation that featured a nopales (cactus) purée over a traditional fried huarache, and a light mole sauce. What struck me immediately was the preparation of the duck, which was treated with the finesse of a prime steak: perfectly seared on the outside, tender and juicy within. The mole, traditionally known for its sometimes overwhelming richness, was surprisingly light and delicate, avoiding the heavy, cloying sweetness that can often dominate the dish. Instead, the sauce enhanced the duck, complementing its flavors without masking them. The result was a refreshing twist on a classic: the mole added depth and texture, but it was the duck’s natural flavor that truly shone. It was a beautifully balanced dish that felt both sophisticated and grounded in tradition.

To wrap up the meal, we ordered the creme brûlée, served alongside a comforting cup of atole. A note for those particular about texture: the brûlée has a velvety, pudding-like consistency, with only a slight crisp layer on the exterior. The interior is soft, almost like yogurt or custard, which might not appeal to everyone. However, for my partner, it was the highlight of the evening.

For me, the true standout was the atole. While it might seem an unexpected hero, finding an authentic, well-executed atole is rare, and this one delivered on every level. It had the perfect balance of thickness and creaminess, with a comforting warmth that felt like being enveloped in a soft tortilla. It was an ideal way to end the meal—rich yet soothing, with flavors that felt both nostalgic and deeply satisfying.

Overall, dining at Carnal was an exceptional experience. The service was impeccable, and the food both innovative and refreshing. While it’s not your abuelita’s Mexican fare, the restaurant establishes its own distinct niche, offering elevated dishes that challenge the traditional flavors of Oaxaca with a contemporary flair. Carnal reimagines classic ingredients and techniques, breathing new life into familiar tastes. I’m already looking forward to returning to explore more of the menu’s creative offerings.