6 Best Mexican Restaurants in Austin

“This place rocks! Wonderful customer service, friendly staff (Hola Enrique!!!), delicious and fresh food, fast and affordable. Five stars!!! Cinco estrellas!!!“

“Follow the Yelp and it was great food!“

“The Wibber turned to me with that look in his eye... the kind of look a man gets when destiny calls him to greatness, and he asked, “What do you feel like eating?” I didn’t even blink. “Something hot. Something spicy. Something that makes me question my life choices by the last bite.” He grinned like a man who already knew the answer. “El Mariachi it is, let’s ride.” So off we went, cruising toward Austin, with visions of sizzling fajitas dancing in my head. Now, let me say this: I had never been to El Mariachi, but the whispers on the street told me this place had a reputation that could rival the Southern Border itself. I half-expected border patrol at the entrance just to check if I could handle the heat. We pulled into the alley behind the restaurant, and I knew right then, this was special. You see, a back-alley entrance is the secret handshake of great restaurants. All the legends in the big cities, the ones that make foodies weep tears of joy, have that hidden-gem alley entrance. We pushed inside, and the place opened up like a well-written novel. Booths lined the walls with intimate seating that whispered, tell your secrets here. But it was the corner booths that caught my attention, curved benches wrapping around the table just right, designed for pulling a date in close. Mental note: if I ever decide to enter the dangerous world of dating again, that booth is where my story starts. The Wibber and I, however, are men of the people. We grabbed a table dead-center, prime real estate where we could take in the full atmosphere. The colors hit me first: dark red, almost maroon, splashed with green, orange, and yellow. It was like stepping into a slice of San Antonio that had been lovingly transplanted to Minnesota. I was halfway to planning a tour of the Alamo in my head when I realized I was still sitting in Austin. Then came the server, rolling up with the kind of sincere look that said, “Tonight, I wait on legends.” He was right. Two crispy, ice-cold Pepsi's landed on the table, followed by a basket of chips, salsa, and a molten side of queso that nearly made me stand up and salute. The music hummed in the background, just the right volume to set the mood but soft enough to let us talk like civilized men. I didn’t catch many words, but one “me llamo” slipped through the beat, and honestly, you don’t need translation when the rhythm’s that smooth. Now, the Wibber and I, we think alike when it comes to food. It’s a spiritual alignment, forged over years of trial and error. So it didn’t take long: “Fajitas,” we said. “Chicken, shrimp, and scallops. Add mushrooms. Already loaded with roasted tomatoes, green peppers, onions, and pineapple.” The sizzle hit the table, and it was game over. Now, Wib has grown a bit dainty in his later years, less of a “pile it high and watch me sweat” kind of eater, so he graciously slid two of his shells across the table to me like a man passing down his inheritance. I went in hard. Five fajitas later, stacked to the heavens with pico de gallo and sour cream, I was baptized in the fire of El Mariachi. By the time I was done, I didn’t just eat... I lived. And in that moment, El Mariachi became my new favorite Mexican restaurant this side of the equator. But there was one test left. The crucible. The moment of truth. The bathroom. Listen, I don’t hand out five stars lightly. A Mexican restaurant can have the best fajitas this world has ever seen, but if that bathroom smells like a Tijuana gas station, it’s over. I pushed open the door, braced for whatever fate had in store… and brother, it was spotless. No smell. Clean as a whistle. That was the final check mark. Five stars, no debate. We walked out of El Mariachi not just satisfied, but changed men. More cultured. More seasoned. And with the unshakable knowledge that once again, the Wibber had led us straight to glory. So here’s the word: if you’re tired of arguing with your spouse about where to eat tonight, stop playing games and just go to El Mariachi. Order the fajitas. Get the queso. Check the bathroom. Then thank us later. F“

“We eat here often; always great food and service!!“

“Have a always had very good food and service last two times we have went the food has gotten way worse and the margaritas don’t taste like a margarita at all (personally do not think there is any tequila in it just mix and water) and the service was not good at all.“

“Paying for cheese separately for olays seems excessive. Up sales could be adjusted. Staff inside at counter just look at you and wait. They should be engaging asking if they can answer your questions about the menu or would you like to order.“