This New Jersey Mexican Restaurant Still Serves The Exact Comfort Plates Generations Love
Step onto Sip Avenue and you can spot Mi Mariachi before you see the sign, the scent of warm spice drifts toward the sidewalk like an invitation. Inside, the room is small in the best way, bright enough to feel alive, close enough that you start recognizing faces by the end of your meal.
Regulars slide into their seats without looking at the menu, and somehow the staff remembers exactly how they take their salsa. I came for something quick and ended up lingering, watching plates land heavy and honest, prices staying kind, portions staying generous.
If you want comfort that feels lived-in and sincere, this family-run spot near Journal Square delivers it plate after plate.
Chicken Tacos
A warm waft of tortillas and grilled chicken greets you the moment the plate lands, lightly fragrant with scallions and the house salsa that regulars swear is balanced just right. The room hums around you, casual and steady, with servers moving quietly but never hurried.
Each taco holds tender chicken with just enough char to matter, tucked into soft tortillas that stay pliable to the last bite. The toppings are minimal but intentional, bright enough to keep the flavor lively.
The calm, unfussy combination lingers after you finish; it’s a simple dish that earns a second glance precisely because it doesn’t try too hard.
Tacos Al Pastor
The pork arrives shaved thin, edges caramelized, and dotted with small pineapple pieces that catch the light. You can hear the calm rhythm from the grill in the background, a sign the cooks aren’t racing the clock but letting the heat do its job.
This al pastor follows the restaurant’s long-standing cadence: patient browning, warmly spiced marinade, and tortillas that stay warm until the end. The sweetness from the pineapple never overwhelms the chili and citrus.
A squeeze of lime lifts everything. Add only a small swipe of hot sauce first, it’s stronger than you expect.
Birria Tacos
The consommé rises with steam that smells gently of cloves, dried chiles, and slow cooking. The room shifts slightly quieter when bowls of birria appear, as if everyone respects the level of care behind the broth.
Inside the tacos, the beef collapses easily into tender strands, folded inside tortillas griddle-crisped to a lace-like edge. Each dunk brings a deeper hit of spice, warmth, and richness.
Regulars dip, pause, and smile like they’ve done this ritual for years. One bite in, you understand exactly why.
Lengua Burrito
A quick glance from the counter reveals the cook slicing the lengua with quiet precision, each piece tender and remarkably clean-tasting. There’s a calm orderliness to how the burrito is folded, everything layered so nothing bleeds or turns soggy.
Inside, rice, beans, pico, and crema stack neatly with the beef, giving each bite a soft contrast of textures. The seasoning stays subtle, letting the meat speak for itself.
Allow a little extra time; orders come out fast but never rushed. Bring cash, the register favors small bills and exact change.
Tostadas De Tinga
Tomato-rich chicken offers a smoky hint as it’s spooned over crisp tostadas, the aroma drifting upward before you take the first bite. The dining room feels especially nostalgic when this dish arrives, maybe because so many regulars remember it from weeknight family dinners.
The chicken clings to the tostada without turning it soggy, and the spice stays polite but present. A quick sprinkle of lettuce and crema balances everything out with coolness.
Crunch meets tenderness in a way that feels instinctively comforting. It’s hard not to linger over the last crisp shard.
Bistec De Palomilla
A bright squeeze of lime hits the thin-sliced steak just before it reaches your table, giving the air a citrus lift. The vibe stays easygoing, with families chatting over plates and passing warm tortillas back and forth.
The pan-seared beef keeps its juices, seasoned only with what it needs, then paired with black beans and avocado for contrast. It’s a dish rooted in simple technique and steady timing.
Locals often add a spoonful of beans across the top, it’s a small tip that deepens each bite without overshadowing the meat.
Chorizo Burrito
That familiar sizzle drifts from the grill the moment the chorizo hits the pan, letting you know exactly what’s coming. The room stays relaxed but lively, with takeout bags crinkling and tables turning quickly.
Inside the burrito, the spiced sausage commands attention without overwhelming the rice, beans, or crema. Everything stays tightly wrapped, sized with real appetite in mind, and balanced so each component shows up.
Ask for both salsas. Switching between them keeps the heat playful, the richness tamed, and the flavor moving.
Fajitas Favorite
A skillet crackles loudly enough to draw glances, onions softening and sweetening under the heat as peppers glow bright. The energy in the room lifts whenever these arrive, families leaning in, ready with tortillas.
Strips of steak mingle with vegetables that stay crisp-tender, never steamed or wilted. The seasoning keeps to warm spices rather than sharp heat, which makes room for the natural sweetness of the onions.
I wrap everything with a squeeze of lime and realize halfway through how satisfying the portion is for the price.
Mole Poblano With Hand-Pressed Tortillas
The first spoonful of mole reveals its depth, toasted chiles, nuts, seeds, and a quiet hint of chocolate layered into a velvety sauce. The room softens when this dish appears, as if everyone recognizes its significance.
The meat beneath the sauce gives way without effort, soaking up everything while still holding its own. Tortillas arrive steaming and soft, pressed only moments before reaching the table.
It’s a dish built for lingering conversation. One bite settles you into your seat, and the finish carries on long after you look up.
Pozole Rojo Weekend Stew
Weekend mornings bring a different hum: bowls of pozole red enough to glow slightly in the light. The scent of simmered pork and rehydrated chiles drifts beyond the counter, inviting newcomers and regulars alike.
Hominy rounds the broth with comforting chew, while radish, cabbage, oregano, and lime turn it into a personalized ritual. Each addition shifts the bowl slightly, making it unmistakably your own.
The first spoon warms; the second steadies. Tostadas on the side add crunch, and a tiny pinch of chile flakes brightens the edges.