The place is noisy (with both patrons and busers), the décor is backyard fiesta style with stings of lights and metallic papel picado on the ceilings and tiny “shrines” at all the booths, the house margaritas are an abomination—but we prefer this place to touristy Mi Tierra and lackluster La Margarita. It’s time for a visual nip and tuck, but the kitchen might just as well stay the way it is. Mostly.

An appetizer platter whimsically named “Qui Kiri Ki” is a good way to test the waters—not because it’s all great, we hasten to add. The crisp, mini chicken flautas are its best aspect, the picadillo chalupa passes muster, and it’s downhill from there through ordinary nachos, standard-issue quesadillas, and a blended guacamole with too much shredded lettuce strewn around—and yet the sum is somehow greater.

We would recommend the “market price” cabrito al horno, but a recent $17 tag is a lot to pay for bony goat. Instead, why not a chile relleno? Its peppery picadillo stuffing lacks the potato and raisin we prefer, but it’s good nonetheless, the batter coating is expertly done, and the ranchero sauce is almost soupy enough to be called classic. Refrieds have both good taste and texture; the so-called Spanish rice features puckery peas but is better-flavored than most. Even the “Enchiladas Tejanas,” should you deign to try them as an anthropological experiment, are actually worth eating. The chili gravy has real, meaty taste, and the cheese is said to be “aged” cheddar.