Under the minimalist-modern styling of its unremarkable mothership, Galaxy Café, this scrubbed and rosy-cheeked Mexican venture putters along in a pleasant white building with vaulting windows that let in gorgeous sunlight, brightening a titanium-white interior. We find the atmosphere much too cold for a cuisine borne of heat and renowned for its comfort; it’s even sterile at night amid the dim glow of votives. Instead, head outside to dine under a pretty hanging garden on lime green chairs, surrounded by the quaint neighborhood charm of Clarksville.

The menu spans every norteamericano twist on Mexican: East coast, West coast, and South coast, from ceviche to black beans to chile con queso. Although pozole is too mild and lacks a depth of flavor, there’s a satisfactory combo of hominy and slow-roasted porky goodness. Really, you should come just for a plate of crispy enchiladas: a delicious stack of fried corn tortillas, shredded chicken, and zingy tomatillo sauce. They’re neither greasy nor dry, and delightfully dolloped with creamy queso fresco. Otherwise, fish tacos are watery and overcooked, and at brunch visits, our food’s inches from frostbite. Oddly, the one intentionally icy item, a frozen wine-arita, melts into sweet syrup before you can take your first sip. But in the measured sunlight of the sidewalk seating, with a beer and those enchiladas, we warm up to the place.