Trudy’s popularity certainly justifies it becoming a sprawling chain, but it’s shown restraint, keeping it to only three locations. We still favor the original, which features a tree-shaded, screened-in terrace that becomes a raging bar scene during happy hour and on weekends. If you’re joining the UT crowd after a football game, expect an hour’s wait upstairs; during the game, you’ll have to fight for seating downstairs, where there are several TVs.

Trudy’s maximum-two-per-customer rule on the Mexican martinis is a ploy worthy of a tenured social psychology professor. If we can only order two, then these drinks must contain some DEA Schedule 2 narcotic. They don’t, of course, but they’re tasty, avoiding that dreaded oversweetness.

Aside from unusually good salsas, the fare at Trudy’s is straight-ahead Tex-Mex, beginning with a basic, creamy chile con queso that is some of the best in town, beautifully integrating the peppers and onions. Order it “especial,” with guacamole and pico de gallo. Enchiladas perform better than burritos—the meats within sometimes fall flat; smoked chicken, particularly. Chunky ranchero sauce is a failure, sliding around and coating its rolled tortillas only with a thin sheen of juice. Much better are the salsa verde and the murderously creamy Suiza sauce. Migas are reliable and terrific—and soothing on the morning after you’ve gone over the two-max rule.