Admittedly, this South Phoenix institution, founded by Carolina and Manuel Valenzuela over 50 years ago, looks a little ramshackle, but locals readily forsake decor for the restaurant’s huge, paper-thin flour tortillas — made fresh all day long and often still warm when you buy them. Considered the best in town, they make heavenly wrappers for fat burritos and chimichangas. Over the decades, Carolina’s has become its own breed of Arizona‑style Mexican food with its red chile, tender machaca, and signature flour tortillas. However, the place is equally beloved for its no-frills tacos, enchiladas (try the machaca), and tamales.

Charcoal‑grilled chicken (pollo al carbón) is a rite of passage among iconic Mexican dishes. While it’s common throughout Mexico, Phoenix has no shortage of spots serving it. Kiss Pollos goes straight to the source — bringing Sinaloa‑style grilled chicken to South Central. The meat is marinated in red chile and a proprietary spice blend, grilled until the skin blisters, then chopped fine so every bite carries smoke and depth. The bare‑bones counter‑service setup feels pulled straight from a street corner in Culiacán. Order the chicken by the plate or tuck into tacos, tostadas, or the Flip Taco — a sandwich‑tostada hybrid stacked with beans, cheese, and crisp tortillas. It even offers a fried chicken slider (often just the kids’ or picky‑eaters’ option at taquerías) but here the crust crackles and the meat stays juicy; it’s served with seasoned fries. Then there’s the Kiss Papa: a mound of potatoes piled high with chicken and cheese, alongside warm tortillas. Proof that when grilled chicken is treated with care, smoke, and soul — it doesn’t need to be anything more.

Tucked into a row of machine shops on Buckeye Road, El Horseshoe has been a South Phoenix fixture since 1996. Run by the Avitia family, this no‑frills hut smells of masa and generations of home cooking. Hand‑torn tortillas get fried and blister into crispy chilaquiles, bathed in red or green salsa (or both, Christmas‑style) and finished with cotija and a fried egg. The chorizo steals the show, coarsely ground on the premises, gently spiced, and far more nuanced than its commercial counterparts in huevos con chorizo. Weekend mornings bring bowls of pozole and menudo, simmered to rich, homestyle depth. The machaca, Sonoran‑style dried beef, is shredded paper‑thin and served almost jerky‑dry (unlike the rehydrated versions found elsewhere), then paired with pan‑fried potatoes that soak up every bit of its savory intensity. With tortillas pressed fresh on-site, it’s a true Arizona‑Mexican feast. Simple, family‑run, and steadfastly authentic, El Horseshoe rewards anyone willing to navigate its off‑beat setting for a taste of Phoenix history.

Locals swear by the carne asada and pollo asada (both experienced in delicious whiffs from the parking lot) served at this small, homey downtown fixture, owned and operated by the Bravo family for over 20 years. While Phoenix boasts countless Mexican restaurants, few stretches compare to the density of “Calle 16” on 16th Street between Jefferson and Thomas. Asadero Norte de Sonora rises above its neighbors by dishing out affordable, top‑notch Sonoran‑style fare in a setting that feels like a cozy living room, with picnic benches, tiled tables, and a television set tuned to telenovelas. To build your own magnificent tacos, order the parillada — a mixed grill combining a choice of three meats that also comes with grilled onions and jalapeños — fantastic charro beans, pickled onions, lime, guacamole, and griddled flour tortillas from Sonora.

Gallo Blanco, Mexican slang for “white guy,” is an apt name for both chef Doug Robson, who grew up near Mexico City, and his Mexican-influenced restaurant, housed in a light-filled, ’20s-era building in the Garfield neighborhood. Robson is justifiably famous for his chunky guacamole, brightened with orange segments, and top-quality tacos (including standout, seasonally changing fish tacos), and tortas — most notably the Naco, layered with carne asada, avocado and fried eggs. But he also turns out preternaturally rich-tasting flapjacks and puts a Mexican spin on Southern shrimp and grits.

Three years in, Chef Rene Andrade’s tiny, bright pink restaurant, an ode to his native Sonora, remains one of Phoenix’s hottest restaurants. Getting a reservation is damned near impossible for a slew of reasons. To name a few, there’s the blackened elote; juicy, spatchcocked chicken; and flame-licked steaks, all cooked over mesquite on a custom-made Santa Maria grill. Small-plate specials might include a radish and cucumber salad (made with local ingredients), aguachile (containing Sonora’s fiery chiltepin pepper), or grilled octopus, which is among the best in town. Taken first or last, a shot of bacanora (Sonora’s agave-based spirit), presented with cinnamon, piloncillo, and smoke, is a showstopper.

Located just up the street from Bacanora, tiny Testal is named for the doughball that becomes a tortilla, and, indeed, tortillas are made fresh daily here, to be used as wrappers for messy, open-ended burritos, made the traditional Chihuahuan way. Try these two classics of the state: comforting deshebrada (shredded beef and potatoes) and chicharron (spicy, softened pork rind in salsa verde with pinto beans). Then wash everything down with an agua fresca many diners likely have never run into before — refreshing Iskiate, composed of chia seeds, lime juice, and agave nectar.

It’s always a day at the beach at this 16th Street stalwart, Phoenix’s favorite Mexican seafood restaurant painted in eye-popping colors. The multi-page menu featuring 25 appetizers alone offers every Mexican seafood classic imaginable — raw oysters, shrimp cocktails, seafood tostadas and soups, grilled or fried fish — as well as a slew of surprises, including mango habanero aguachile, hot lava steak, paella brimming with grilled shrimp, grilled octopus and mussels, and El Peligroso, a pricy seafood challenge amped up with fiery Carolina Reaper and ghost peppers that earns diners a t-shirt if they can eat it. Colorful cocktails (some rimmed with Tajin) reflect the same “go big or go home” attitude.

Mexican sandwiches — aka tortas — are the raison d’être at this snug mom-and-pop, which offers about 18 different sandwiches, most stacked with fresh avocado, lettuce, tomato, and jalapeño, all tucked into toasted, golden-brown bread. Standouts include the al pastor (pastor-style marinated pork with bacon and onion), the Alambre (asada with bacon, onion, bell pepper and cheese), and the Cubana (pork pierna, breaded steak, ham, and cheese), but brave hearts might opt for the seriously spicy ahogada or the crunchy, fatty colitas de pavo (fried turkey tails). Wash everything down with fresh, foamy aguas frescas.

Vaulted ceilings, shiny tiled floors and corner frescos lend an upscale vibe to this pretty, coral-colored restaurant, offering a range of regional specialties such as chicken tinga, cochinita pibil, Veracruz-style fish, and a dripping-in-juices flat-iron steak, served with green bean-like nopales (cactus) that are worth the splurge. Because the menu is extensive, it’s also possible to eat well for less on ceviche tostadas, burritos, enchiladas, gorditas, and the like, including fantastic tacos al vapor, dipped in red chile and lightly steamed. Don’t miss the budget-friendly happy hour or Taco Tuesday.

These no-frills West Valley taco spots claim to serve the best carne asada in town, and the locals who keep them packed surely agree. Cooked over mesquite on a Santa Maria grill and tucked in supple tortillas, the smoky, succulent meat is further enhanced by adornments from the neatly kept salsa bar, stocked with crisp, finely chopped cabbage, lime wedges, verduras, avocado cream, pickled onions, and excellent salsas. Loyalists swear by the Hazz taco, a luxurious combo of steak, green chile, and cheese, but don’t sleep on the barbacoa, lengua, tripitas de leche and huevos de becerro (yep, that’s tender, springy calf testicles).

Scottsdale isn’t exactly known for low‑key Mexican food, especially the kind without a drinks menu or sharply designed dining room. But this no‑frills South Scottsdale taquería has been quietly holding it down for years with Jalisco‑style staples and little interest in catering to tourists. The setup is straightforward: counter service, fluorescent lights, and laminated menus — but the food always delivers. On weekends, regulars pile in for birria de chivo and menudo, both available only then. The rest of the week, the menu shines with tortas ahogadas (a Jalisco sandwich specialty) served crusty, fiery, and properly drenched, alongside a deep roster of shrimp plates: camarones rancheros (fajita‑style with bell pepper and tomato), camarones al ajo, fiery camarones a la diabla, ceviche tostadas, shrimp cocktail (or a shrimp‑and‑octopus version), and breaded camarones empanizados. The house salsas, made fresh daily and sold by the pint, are a highlight on their own. An attached raspado shop pours syrup‑soaked shaved ice, the ideal cooldown after anything here.

Husband and wife team Armando Hernandez and Nadia Holguin (a classically trained chef) bring the meat-centric home cooking of Chihuahua to their small but mighty menu, featuring, among other things, melting beef cheek barbacoa (smoked for more than 12 hours), tender lengua, and crispy fried tripas — all tucked in handmade corn tortillas and doctored up at the salsa bar. Their mini empire (three locations) may have been built on tacos, but puffy flour gorditas, laden with rajas (chiles and cheese) picadillo, or deshebrada roja (shredded red chile beef) make equally satisfying comfort food.

Using her grandmother’s recipes, chef and owner Elizabeth Hernandez makes the dishes of her native Oaxaca at this charming Sunnyslope restaurant, including the fifteen — or more — sauces for which the restaurant is named. Naturally, mole is a speciality here, and five varieties (green, red, black, yellow, and mole stew) are available with entrees (pork or chicken) or enchiladas. The menu also features cheese empanadas, filled with squash blossoms, epazote, and huitlacoche; memelas (akin to sopes), tlayudas (think tostadas with a generous, crackling base), and an excellent selection of mezcal.

It’s all about the birria at this friendly, family-run storefront, where the juicy, red chile-flavored stewed beef in question is offered in a half dozen deliciously different formats — atop French fries, in a bowl with consomé, rice, and beans, mixed with ramen, in a burrito, or in a grilled cheese sandwich built on buttery Texas toast. Every vehicle has its merits, and while the menu does offer other meats (namely, pastor and carne asada), a word to the wise: don’t miss the quesabirria taco or a fat, griddle-blistered pizzadilla, oozing with cheese and, of course, birria.  – more at eater.com