Vamos, Vamos a Reginas

Food, soccer and more of each

Photo by Gustavo ArellanoOn a tiny strip of Garden Grove's Westminster Boulevard, Argentina lives.

Here, Argentines nostalgic for the motherland flock to Regina's Restaurant to partake in the grandest passions of a famously passionate populace: soccer and food. The restaurant's reputation for each is impeccable: soccer emanates like a looped tape from Regina's three televisions and is watched by dozens who come to eat at Regina's at least thrice a week.

I visited the restaurant over the course of Argentina's three World Cup matches, the best time possible to experience Regina's exemplary distribution of Argentina's ardors. I ate, talked soccer and politics, and cheered on the Argentine squad. But mostly I ate.

It's three hours before the Argentina-Nigeria match, but I'm already too late. All 76 seats are reserved, and half of them are filled with fans consuming pasta, beef and wine. Owner Elías Niquias is gracious enough to give me a seat but reserves the right to boot me if necessary.

Location Info



11025 Westminster Ave.
Garden Grove, CA 92843

Category: Restaurant > Argentine

Region: Garden Grove

The tiny eatery is enchanting, with the color scheme of the Argentine flag—pastel blue and white—everywhere from the solitary Greek column in the middle of the restaurant to the parking lot wall outside. Inside are vines, roses and pictures of Argentine heroes such as Formula One legend Juan Manuel Fangio and singer Carlos Gardel,giving the restaurant the feel of a Buenos Aires café.

For my first meal, I order the brocheta de carne, and it matches every expectation I had of the beef-dominant Argentine diet. It's composed of beef, beef and beef and is served with grilled tomatoes, onions, beef and lemons. The meat is lightly salted and tender, with a lemony tinge to it, but the tomatoes are the most remarkable aspect. They're burnt in a way that makes them taste almost like meat. I hate tomatoes, yet I devour these.

But I have a task at hand, which is to ask everyone the stupidest question imaginable: "Why are you here to watch the opening game of the Cup?" Most replies are like the one Carlos Opuez gives me: he laughs in my face.

A large joy of a man from Mission Viejo, Opuez has lived in Orange County for more than 20 years but makes Regina's his home. "It's like Argentina here," he says. "Soccer, to us, is in the blood, and it's not the same seeing soccer alone. All of us come here any time there's an important match to have dinner, relax and talk."

Ana Karina Marino agrees. A 27-year-old graduate student at UC Irvine, the porteña (native of Buenos Aires) has lived here less than a year but has already made Regina's her own. Like Opuez, Marino comes to catch up with her compatriots, partake of Regina's delicious food (tonight she shares a parillada, made of five kinds of beef) and cheer Argentina's opiate.

"For us Argentines, the Cup is a passion," Marino says. "When we are winning in the Cup, we forget all of our problems as we unite to celebrate our football team."

But Marino mutes her enthusiasm with sociopolitical reality. "Sure, it would make people happy," she says when asked if an Argentine Cup victory would ameliorate her country's economic destitution. "But I don't think multinational companies will somehow leave Argentina if we win the Cup."

Oh, yeah, the game. Argentina dominates Nigeria and wins 1-0.

A word of advice: don't talk to an Argentine during a soccer match. I ask a man during an Argentine attack why he went to Regina's four times a week. "I told you already. The ambiance," he snaps. Then he tells me the seat I'm sitting in is occupied so get off!

Tonight is the highlight of the Cup: Falklands IV, Argentina vs. England. It's so early in the morning (4:30 a.m.) that full meals are not being served; instead, it's just pastries along with café con leche. I partake of a particularly yummy empanada with peanut-butter-based cream inside and drink my strong-yet-sweet coffee out of a mug emblazoned with the Argentine flag. It's time to kick some limey arse, carajo!

Or is it?

El Besador
Photo by Gustavo Arellano

"It's an invention of the newspapers," says Dino Pilón of Westminster regarding the rivalry. "We're indebted to the English because they invented the sport."

He seems hesitant to say anything bad about the English side but then concludes with a sly grin, "We'll be like brothers when they return las Islas Malvinas [the Falkland Islands] to us."

Others are not as diplomatic. "I hate them," says Fernando Vasquez of Anaheim. "They came from far away to take our land. I had a friend who fought in the Falklands War and turned crazy."

It's Vasquez who urges the restaurant to leave their early morning coffee and rise up in unison when the Argentine national anthem is played. And it's Vasquez who leads the catcalls when "God Save the Queen" follows. Pilón seems mistaken: the game hasn't even begun and already the packed restaurant is screaming for blood.

But once the action begins, the room suddenly quiets. Shouts of "Elías! The volume! What's going on?" soon fill the room. Once Elías turns up the volume, the room quiets once again.

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