Despite success measured by longevity and a steady following, the local chain doesn’t always receive its due from the so-called “foodie” crowd. Familiarity may be partly at fault for this, as Blue Mesa’s thick and earthy adobe pie passed from revelation to known comfort years ago. It’s the same with their tripartite chips and salsa presentation, involving white corn, blue corn, and sweet potato—everybody knows of it and expects it.

The courtyard entry guarded by massive wooded doors which played a signature role in the restaurant’s identity once upon a time now borders on cliché. Tableside guacamole service has become a standard feature of moderately upscale Southwestern and Tex-Mex establishments, too. Other restaurants stock more interesting tequila labels. Meanwhile local tastes have veered toward streetwise Mexican and away from Southwestern flavors, however creative.

So after all this time, veils of predictability and age obscure Blue Mesa from whatever fuels popular buzz. Perhaps as a result, the place ticks along steadily, turning out their once-famous adobe pie, thick and grounded corn chowders, meats draped in dusty Southwestern heat, potent margaritas, and such. Indeed, apart from the inescapable effects of time, Blue Mesa shows few cracks.