Abracadabra. Now you see it. Now you don’t. Hold your breath for about a year, and Chilango’s Mexican Grill unexpectedly reappears in the exact location as though it never vanished – a titillating magic trick that has unfolded for foodies who appreciate dramatically flavored cuisine from central Mexico.

Siblings Carlos and Victor Bautista originally opened the quaint Hillcrest restaurant on the west stretch of University Avenue in 2001, presenting a menu that radically departed from the usual Cal-Mex fare hovering all around us. Established fans, however, were left in the dark last February when the brothers sold out to Origami Sushi to pursue other interests in the food industry. The sushi joint flopped. And much to our delight, the guys decided last month to reopen Chilango’s and bring back an even greater repertoire of poignantly seasoned dishes representing their native Mexico City.

The menu’s foundation is built largely upon recipes from Carlos’ and Victor’s mother, who professed to her kids that “garlic and onions are the king and queen of Mexican cooking.” Add to the throne other flavor boosters such as oregano, nuts, seeds and a potpourri of chili peppers, and you’ll likely never set foot again in an Old Town Mexican restaurant.

A mere swipe of a chip through the house salsa reveals plush flavors achieved from roasted jalapenos, garlic, onions and fresh tomatoes, as does a ceviche appetizer of small cooked shrimp assembled to order with fresh-squeezed lime juice, virgin olive oil, oregano, diced avocado and copious cilantro.

Another recommended starter, chilacas rellenas, gives you two Anaheim chili peppers (sans the gringo egg batter) filled with queso fresco and covered in velvety black bean sauce spiked with garlic and caramelized onions – basically chili rellenos of a much higher dimension.

Soups and entrees dig deeper into central Mexico. Caldo de Verdura is a light celery-tomato broth containing mouthfuls of carrots, peas and zucchini. It’s like sipping all the nutrients from a blooming vegetable garden. The Caldo Xochitl, a chicken-tomato broth brimming with rice, herbs, roasted garlic, onions, avocado and pulled chicken breast, is equally heartwarming.

Main courses are more flavor-dazzling than what I remember when eating here several years ago. New to the menu since the restaurant’s unforeseen return is a large roasted poblano pepper stuffed with shrimp, stringy chicken breast, grilled onions and chopped braised pears. It’s a busy, contemporary invention cloaked in soupy pear puree infused with a Herculean dose of tarragon, which sends forth a licorice-like sweetness that you don’t normally find commingling with chili peppers. My companion loved it right off the bat, whereby it took a few slow bites before my palate could wholly unify the flavors.

In dishes involving chicken, the poultry is marinated in vinegar and orange juice, quickly grilled and then braised, resulting in a gorgeously tender outcome. We tried the pollo ala chipotle liberally bathed in roasted tomato cream sauce along with Chef Carlos’ newfangled pollo en salsa de jalapeno slathered in a pretty pepper-green sauce using cream cheese. Think Mexican flavors with French textures. Both were divine.

Roast pork loin shows up in a variety of entrees that veer refreshingly off the beaten carnitas track. It dances with plum sauce, roasted peppers, smoked bacon, opuntia cactus, and of course, garlic and onions. In a dish called “enchiladas Z,” the succulent meat finds a home in corn tortillas filled also with wild mushrooms, poblano peppers and grilled onions. The ravishing flavor combination competed rather mightily with a topping of panela cheese and tangy tomatillo green sauce.

There are several seafood items on the menu that bow to different regions of central and southern Mexico. Pescado empapelado hailing from the Yucatan, for instance, gave us flounder topped with tiger shrimp, tomatoes, garlic, onions, thyme and queso chihuahua. It closely resembled the peasant-style, Sicilian preparation of sea bass I recently ate at Vincenzo’s in Little Italy – light, basic and satisfying.

Dessert for now is flan, which we skipped with the hopes that the kitchen will reintroduce the pine nut cake with strawberry puree that I reveled over in my earlier visit.

The food at Chilango’s remains full of heart and soul, providing an excellent alternative to Mexican food as we don’t know it. Service is humble. And the “king and queen” reigns over every dish, leaving you with a majestic aftertaste that tacos and burritos can’t match.