Mexican in Orlando

Family owned and operated, established in 1998. Voted #1 Best Mexican Restaurant 2019 Orlando Weekly.

A cool blue interior belies the spicy fare served at this trendy taqueria. With 100 brands on hand, tequila is the aperitif of choice, but all good drinks lead to food, and the Tex-Mex dishes served here are done right. Chunky guacamole, the plato grande (a hungry man's dish of skirt steak, picadillo enchilada and a superb chicken tamale slathered in mole), and the pastel de piña are all recommended, as are reservations.

Family owned and operated, established in 1998. Voted #1 Best Mexican Restaurant Orlando Weekly 2019. UberEats and Doordash delivery available.

OK, I'm going to come right out and admit it. When I first heard of a 24-hour Mexican takeout restaurant, I shuddered. Having been out of college for many years, the idea of fast-food-grade tacos before sunrise made me just a little bit queasy.

And then we went to Beto's, near the congested crossroads of State Road 436 and U.S. Highway 17-92, and I now humbly apologize. There's an old joke about Mexican food being nothing but meat, rice and cheese with different names, and I can tell you that the joke doesn't hold true here. Beto's does not churn out your typical drive-through meals.

Look at the "Beto's special carne asada fries" ($5.50), thick-cut french fries smothered in guacamole, sour cream and chopped steak -- not ground meat but real pieces of steak. Or "carnitas" tacos, soft corn tortillas stuffed with roasted pork ($2.25).

I don't usually associate Mexican cooking with potatoes, and, in fact, the "Mexican potato" is actually jicama, a crunchy, sweet tuber much like a water chestnut. (The sweet, syrupy Pina drink that's served is made from jicama; also try Horchata, a traditional rice, almond and cinnamon drink.) So I wasn't expecting the Southwestern influences of the "Texano" burrito ($2.95), filled with rich dark-meat chicken, sour cream, cheese and potatoes, a filling and satisfying combination. I guarantee you will not eat it all at one sitting; likewise the "California" burrito ($3.05), grilled steak, pico de gallo and potato, an old-fashioned meat-and-potato meal in your hand.

Still on the burrito kick, the fried-fish-and-tarter-sauce one was exceptional, with crispy fried fish and sharp pico de gallo (spiked with lime) for a West Coast-flavored delight ($2.95). The combination platters ($4.25 to $5.95) are enormous servings of extremely well-executed traditional dishes, using shredded beef (machaca) in enchiladas and chorizo with tortillas. I wish there were more seafood offerings than just fish, but perhaps that will come.

And then there's breakfast. Never contemplated a stuffed taco in the morning? Beto's serves breakfast burritos unlike any other: giant two-fisted tortillas wrapped around ham and eggs, shredded beef and vegetables, or a steak and egg burrito stuffed with grilled meat, fried eggs, cheese and potatoes. Go very early, because you won't be hungry again for quite a while after finishing one of these.

Beto's won't be winning any prizes for its decor, but the interior of the nondescript building (which at various times was a roast-chicken stand, a bagel place and a Chinese takeout) is immaculately clean and comfortable enough for a not-so-quick eat-in, any time of the day or night. Be prepared to bring half home.

If there’s one instance where the refrain “the West is the best” rings true, it’s Mexican food. The harsh reality for us in Florida is that south-of-the-border fare served here just doesn’t compare to the stuff served in California, Texas and New Mexico. In fact, sampling such superior and passionately prepared dishes in L.A., Dallas and Santa Fe has pretty much ruined any hope I have of truly enjoying Mexican food in this city. That’s not to say Mexican food here isn’t decent; it is, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m settling for less than the best. Given that killjoy preamble, you’d think I’m setting up this charming little strip mall taqueria for a downfall, but Chilaquiles Mexican Grill is one of the better Mexican joints in town, if that’s any consolation.

Pedro and Virginia Hernandez offer all your traditional Mexican faves, some prepared in the style of their native Guanajuato, the central Mexican state whose name translates to “land of frogs,” though nary a frog taco is to be seen on the menu. A refulgent green wall may or may not be an homage to those spindly amphibians and, coupled with a yellow wall and a tangerine-colored ceiling, gives the restaurant a lot of color but, surprisingly, without kitsch.

The strobing effect created by the ceiling fan’s proximity to the light fixture transported me to the opening scene of Apocalypse Now – “Saigon, I can’t believe I’m still in Saigon” – that is, until a soft taco filled with rajas ($1.80) and one filled with beef and potato ($1.49) were set before me. The former featured a savory mix of sautéed peppers, cilantro, onions and gooey queso inside a flour tortilla (corn tortillas are also offered); the latter was a little bland, but a dip in the Guanajuato-style hot salsa, made with jalapeno, habanero, mango and ginger, livened it up nicely. I washed down those peppery bites with a succoring swig of sweet and fruity sangria ($3).

I expected more from the namesake chicken chilaquiles ($7.25), a dish known for its therapeutic effects in curing hangovers and, thus, typically enjoyed for breakfast. A diminutive layering of mini fried corn tortillas quickly turned to mush after being topped with onions, melted cheese, onions and sour cream, and the wee morsels of grilled chicken, though flavored nicely, were dry. The lack of green sauce had the dish resembling a nachos-like entrée more than it did the hearty, saucy meal chilaquiles usually make.

I saw shades of Santa Fe in the smoky three-pepper red salsa slathered over carne asada enchiladas ($8.69). And though the beef was a tad chewy, the red sauce made a winner of the dish. A small ramekin of mild green salsa was also offered.

I had my eyes set on the chile relleno ($8.20), but they were all out, so I opted for a chimichanga ($4.50) instead. The lightly fried flour tortilla, stuffed with yellow rice and seasoned beef, was perfectly crisp and not greasy in the least. Desserts aren’t made in-house, but churros ($1.25), vanilla ice cream with Mexican chocolate ($1.75) or a taza of Mexican hot chocolate all make satisfactory endings.

Service was amiable and accommodating, and the owners seem genuinely committed to quality. What you eat here is what the Hernandezes eat in their own home. I just hope they can attract a loyal customer base – on the night I visited, the plaza resembled a barren wasteland, devoid of any famished souls. Yes, the West may still be the best, but if you’re craving real Mexican fare a cut above your local Chevy’s, Chilis or Don Pablo’s, my advice is to head north to Longwood.

We didn't review this location but you can check out the review of the Chipotle in Winter Park.

Haute-Texican cuisine with Portuguese flourishes gives cause to visit this industrial-chic Park Avenue-area resto. From shrimp piri-piri to pollo pibil to duck confit tacos, chef Chico employs traditional and contemporary methods to skillfully render his dishes. If ordering Mexican doughnuts, it's possible you may get lemony Portuguese malassadas instead, sans cinnamon.

Upscale Baldwin Park taqueria has honed its act in the kitchen, but still needs work on the service end. The mole is bueno, as is luscious chipotle pepper-cream sauce lathered over plump shrimp. Tres leches cake is a decadent capper.

Teaser: Upscale Baldwin Park taqueria has honed its act in the kitchen, but still needs work on the service end. The mole is bueno, as is luscious chipotle pepper-cream sauce lathered over plump shrimp. Tres leches cake is a decadent capper.