10 Best Mexican Restaurants in Twentynine Palms

“I ordered tacos and chips to take back to motel room.Service is great as well as the food!!Refried beans were delicious too!Would definitely recommend.

Parking: Restaurant is located on the bottom floor of hotel.Plenty of parking.“

“Small spot, connected to a bowling alley. Got the Cali burrito, which isn’t quite the Cali ingredients (had rice for example), but was tasty and big in size. Good verde sauce as well to compliment it. Did a to-go order and it was ready on time.

Parking: Dirt lot parking across the street or street parking.“

“Maximilianos’s is AMAZING! While, visiting the JT National Park, we stayed in 29 Palms. We were craving Mexican food and this restaurant was highly recommended. The food was 100% authentic and the charm of the restaurant with great customer service really made for an enjoyable experience! We definitely will be back!!“

“I love this place. She is such a nice lady and makes the best carne asada burritos ever! Every time I go I think I'm going to try something new but I just end up getting the same thing. Loaded with meat and all kinds of delicious burrito stuff. Can't recommend this place enough!“

“Kipp is a wonderful bartender. Attentive, fast response. So professional, he had a complete ahole at the bar, but he was always with a smile and trying to help to annoying man. His drinks are amazing as is his personality. Always a pleasure when I see Kipp as the bartender.“

“This is a small mom and pop place, and there were very few customers. It really deserves more. The food was hot and tasty (many places out here there is no flavor). The place is worn, but what good place isnt. They focus more on the food than the decor. There was a single waitress, and when I went only three seated tables. The food was also cheap. I ordered the enchiladas rancheros. The portion was large for $13.“

“Really nice family from Oaxaca, Mexico — they speak Mixe — an indigenous language — in addition to Spanish.

Come try their delicious tacos! They’re there every day (Except Mondays and on Bad Weather days) starting at 1830 until about 11 or 12.“

“We’ve eaten good food here many times and although one week it wasn’t as good as usual you have to expect imperfection from the restaurants in a small town. Usually it’s been great and far tastier than many of the other Mexican takeout establishments here. Fresh home made salsa if you order chips. Crispy tacos and taquitos are yummy. Guacamole isn’t “green sour cream” like some places. They’ll change the TV channel if you’re not happy with what’s playing.“

“It was a tale as old as time. I was in the ER, getting my stomach pumped, thinking about life. Reminiscing about the times I had in the past week, I realized…my life would never be the same. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start from the very beginning. It was a sunny day in March, and my friends and I were cruising down the road, nursing hangovers from Vegas, when we stumbled upon the town of Twentynine Palms. Buildings materialized out of the desert, a hint of civilization after endless desert. Craving some familiarity in a strange place, we searched for some mexican food. The first name popped up on google maps, and we set our course for Edchada’s Taqueria, blissfully unaware of what was to come. We pulled into the parking lot, and were greeted with a 21+ sign, the first warning that this establishment might not be what we expected. Tentatively, we opened the door, and took in the sight of a dingy bar. Several older men, with a look in their eyes that indicated they saw things in the war they couldn’t unsee, sat at the bar. A host materialized from the shadows, and we told him we were ordering to go. He seemed immediately displeased, but nonetheless, he gave us menus and waited, always keeping one eye on us as if we were going to steal a chimichanga when he wasn’t looking. After perusing the menu, we eyed each other before steve finally got up from his seat and approached the host. “Can I place an order?” he asked. In a tone dripping with disdain, the host responded “yeah⁉️” Slightly taken aback, steve proceeded to order. With a powerful sigh, the host beckoned for the next order. We went up one by one, tentatively placing our orders. We then sat back down, awaiting our food…and our fate. Finally, the first order came out. What seemed at first glance to be a simple carnitas burrito and a quesadilla would spell our doom. Steve went to grab his food, but I realized it was my order. I went to grab the bag, but as I lifted it the host erupted. “NO NO NO NO NO” he screamed. “you just lost half your meal” he growled at me. Terrified, I was frozen in my spot as he examined the contents of the bag. Luckily, the food was intact. Shaken from the encounter, I sat back down, wondering what else would happen as the orders came out. Surprisingly, the rest of the food came out without a hitch, and we breathed a sigh of relief as we thanked the host and started leaving. “Call your parents. Tell them you’re alive. Be safe out there.” The warning echoed in our minds as we departed. Little did we know that the omens would come true. We returned to the hotel, our skepticism outweighed by our hunger. I decided to try the quesadilla first. I opened the box and was greeted by what could only be described as strings of raw beef, as if someone grated a cow into my quesadilla. Nevertheless, I was hungry, and so I dug in. The first warning sign came later, as we were leaving to watch the sunset. My stomach grumbled and I started to feel off, but this was only the calm before the storm. As we drove back to the hotel, I started feeling dizzy. I concentrated on the road, but my stomach started making noises I had only heard once before, from my $20 target blender. Lia stepped on the gas, and I found myself lying on the hotel bed. I drank some water, and for a second, I felt some relief, but suddenly I was slipping away. The voices around me got quieter, and the room got smaller, smaller, and smaller, before it faded to black. I came to with a bright light in my face, and a masked face above me. I was confused for a moment, before I realized it was the hospital. The doctor asked with a kind voice if I was ok, before explaining that my stomach needed to be pumped. It was painful, but I got through it, and after some rest, was cleared to leave. We passed hundreds of doors, all seemingly filled with poor souls having their stomachs pumped. Ok the way out, we passed the receptionist, who bid us farewell. I looked back, and the wing of the hospital had a small plaque on the wall. I squinted, and as I read it, my stomach dropped for the 100th time“

“Good food for a decent price. Very fast service, the carne asada fries is a must.“