It seems that about half of downtown’s offices empty into the raucous Midtown Anaya’s after work so everyone can unwind with huge, super-strong margaritas. (Send someone early, as getting a table outside is a Herculean feat.) The others branches are still quite lively, but calm by comparison.

Cyclone Anaya’s is named for a former professional wrestler whose family owns and runs them all. And it’s a fun scene—it feels like everyone’s there, packed into large booths with chic lighting fixtures glinting off copious amounts of bling.

The food’s all Tex-Mex comfort, and it’s not spectacular, but everything manages to escape the usual problems that plague Tex-Mex kitchens: taco beef and tamales are aggressively seasoned and moist; cheese melts all the way and doesn’t get that goopy wallpaper-paste consistency. It’s best showcased on chicken enchiladas in red corn tortillas, topped with a lively tomatillo sauce; the chile con carne enchiladas are a little monotonous. Fajitas are fine, if not flaunting the smoky mesquite flavor of the best versions in town. Remarkably fresh-tasting salsa is just hot and chunky enough, whereas the creamy sauce on several platters is too thick and sweet, smothering whatever lies beneath. Much like, we guess, Cyclone Anaya did to his opponents.