Diablo’s Cantina

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Signs — if we hadn’t been there and didn’t know — that Diablo’s Cantina is on the Strip: $9 for a house margarita, $4 for chips and salsa (and if we hadn’t noticed that on the menu, we might have been prompted to say “Sure” when our waitress asked, “Would you like to start with chips and salsa?” and then found out too late that, unlike virtually every other Mexican restaurant in Las Vegas and, come to think of it, the rest of the country, they’re not complimentary).

And all of that would be OK if the menu and the food were extraordinary, or even extra-anything. We kind of thought it would be; the fajitas were billed as “hot-rock style” and the poppers as being based on smoked jalapenos, so that would be two somewhat interesting twists on Mexican-American restaurant standards. We thought. (And, since Diablo’s is from The Light Group, whose Fix at Bellagio and Stack at The Mirage are pretty good, it was plausible.)

But the poppers ($8 for a half-order, $16 for a full) were your standard poppers, found in virtually every other Mexican restaurant (or bar) in Las Vegas and, come to think of it, the rest of the country: your basic raw jalapenos, stuffed with cheese, breaded and fried. The accompanying ranch dressing did seem to have a slight smoky tinge so maybe that’s what they’re counting on, but the ordinariness of the poppers made our half-order seem, as Dorothy Parker once said of two people and a ham, like eternity.

And the fajitas. Of several varieties we chose the steak ($19), and the meat was pretty good, well-seasoned and tender and sauteed with peppers and onions, with warm flour tortillas and salsa, guacamole and sour cream on the side. But it was the “hot-rock” thing that had intrigued us; that sounded kind of novel. Instead, the fajitas turned out to be pretty much like those you’d find in virtually every other Mexican restaurant in Las Vegas and, come to think of it, the rest of the country (do you see a pattern here?) Turns out the hot rock was actually a hot skillet. Sure, the meat mixture sizzled. Just like it has been doing at Chili’s since, oh, about the ’80s.

Things pretty much continued in that vein. A carnitas burrito ($15) sounded promising. Offered a choice of “dry and crispy” or “smothered in red chili sauce,” we chose the latter, to be served a burrito composed of a tortilla that had been barely dipped in chili sauce and wrapped around reasonably acceptable seasoned braised pork. I’m not sure how “dry and crispy” would’ve been, but “smothered in red chili sauce” was pretty dry, if not crispy.

This one included beans and rice, which were your basic beans and rice, much like you’d find … oh, never mind.

A starter of empanadas ($10) was kind of refreshing, since we don’t see many of those, and the flaky turnovers enclosing finely ground meat seasoned with a hint of smoke and just a tiny bit of sweet were probably the highlight of our dinner.

Service was pretty good starting out, dwindling to “COULD WE PLEASE GET OUR CHECK?” at the end. The atmosphere is kind of nice, particularly if you’re from out of town. The entrance from the casino takes you down a long hallway that almost feels authentic, except that then we had to sort of wind around at the off-the-Strip entrance to get in line at the hostess station. The music was loud but we expected that, and the subdued furnishings, color-changing light strands and open-air aspect of the Strip all contribute to a festive feel — again, particularly if you’re from out of town.

We locals, we know better. There are some decent Mexican restaurants in the valley that offer a comfortable, enjoyable atmosphere and a food that’s creatively conceived and well-prepared, instead of pretty much mimicking the chains, most of which have been lost in the shuffle.

Luckily for us, we know where to find them.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@ reviewjournal.com.