Sexless Mex

Jennifer was more restrained with her meal, three thick enchiladas stuffed with avocado and sumptuously laden with the same array of shrimp, scallops, peppers and mushrooms that had been ladled on my fat pepper -- hmm, maybe culinary creativity isn't a strong point here. She finished only half of it, and our devoted waiter packed it all up for her with an extra bag of chips and salsa. We couldn't decide if he was flirting or just being nice.

But everyone is nice at Abuelo's, from the cheery hostesses to the observant busboys, which is probably another reason why this new restaurant is so popular. The night I dined with my friend Jeanne and her two teenage daughters, there was never an empty glass or unfilled metal bowl of chips on the table. Jeanne thought the place was gorgeous and the food fabulous. When her combination dinner, the Monterrey, arrived on an oversized platter ("It weighs 10 pounds with nothing on it," the server told us), she was overwhelmed. "This could easily feed a family of six," she said, taking inventory of the sour-cream-and-chicken enchilada, the avocado enchilada and the chicken ranchero and spinach versions, along with a taco and a cheese-filled chile relleno.

Twelve-year-old Alexandra was more critical: "There's way too much melted cheese on the quesadilla," she said, looking down at her plate, "and the refried beans have either been fried too many times or left out too long, so they've become an inedible paste."

It was true: The beans were a bust. But I was thrilled to see her incredibly fussy older sister actually eating a beef enchilada without finding some ghastly flaw in its preparation. For my own meal, I enjoyed the fresh-tasting cilantro-lime soup (with fat chunks of chicken, pozole and lots of cilantro), but the pescado en hoja, a flaky hunk of tilapia, was drenched -- rather than lightly glazed -- with a honey-lime sauce that was too heavy-handed on the honey. It was so sweet that I didn't need dessert.

"Not even our dessert nachos?" the waiter asked brightly. He proceeded to describe a jumble of cinnamon chips, caramel, praline ice cream and whipped topping. "Perhaps another time," Jeanne said diplomatically, "and not after we've eaten too much. "

All that overindulgence didn't take too much bite out of my wallet, though, and that's another reason for this restaurant's popularity: The dinner-check average is about $15 a person. That's definitely pricier than dinner at a Mexican restaurant on Southwest Boulevard, but at Abuelo's, there's the perception that you've dined at someplace fancy.

Sexy, no es. But sometimes being pretty is good enough.