Lupe Tortilla is everywhere, and its popularity transcends the generations: the playscape-sandbox areas are always active; children run about and throw sand, while inside, their parents try vainly to buzz from the weak margaritas. Service ranges from distracted to just plain rude: requests are shrugged off, food can take forever to come out, and few apologies are offered. What’s more, the menu has an annoying, patronizing, borderline offensive habit of writing some things as a non-native speaker of English would say them—chicken becomes “cheekin,” fish is “feech,” and mixed fajitas are “meexed.” It’ll make you cringe, especially given that the restaurant’s founders, according to the restaurant, spoke no Spanish when they launched Lupe in the ’80s.

Still, they know their way around the parrilla. Carne asada and “3-Pepper” flank steak are best; the latter is marinated in lime, habanero, jalapeño, and serrano. But we’ve had it come quite tough. Chicken has a nice smoky sear, but is of the spongy, dry breast variety. For starters, share the pepper shrimp (would that be “shreemps”?), which are gargantuan—stuffed with Monterey Jack and chilies, then wrapped in bacon and grilled to creamy, crunchy goodness.

In the end, this Tex-Mex is merely serviceable to Houstonians, who laugh when we tell them that we’ve heard pasty-white oil executives from the UK in a neighboring booth exclaim “this is the best Mexican food I’ve ever had.”