Macayo’s

The Welcome to Las Vegas sign was erected that year. Prominent hotels included the Hacienda, the Sands, the Desert Inn, the New Frontier, the Silver Slipper and the Stardust. Everything was kind of pastel pink and desert tan.

As far as food, most Americans in 1959 thought Chung King chow mein was authentic Chinese and that the pasteboard-box pizza mixes of Chef Boyardee (who used the phonetic version of his name, Boiardi, for a white-bread market) were the top of the pie pile. And Macayo’s started serving Mexican food in Las Vegas.

While it’s a good bet that Our Fair City — like Phoenix, where Macayo’s roots were planted in 1946 — had a higher Hispanic population in 1959 than much of the country (owing to geographical proximity), to the many Eastern and Midwestern transplants and non-native tourists, the fare must have seemed exotic indeed. Like their Chinese and Italian brethren, Macayo’s operators no doubt smoothed the edges of their cuisine, at least a little.

Cut to 50 years later, when we have a thriving Hispanic population and recent expatriates are running restaurants all over the valley. Spice has become sport, with fiery salsas and other dishes the norm rather than the exception. And Macayo’s still is going strong with four valley locations (we went to the one on West Charleston) serving Mexican food that’s not so much Tex-Mex as American-Mex.

To wit: the salsas, to start. Dinner at Macayo’s begins with a bowl of warm chips and two salsas, a chunky salsa cruda and a smooth cooked style. What they had in common was that both were mild in the extreme. That’s not to say they weren’t tasty; the salsa cruda, especially, was pretty decent with its chunks of tomatoes and onions and judicious amount of cilantro. What they weren’t was zippy, even just a little.

That trend continued with our minichimichangas ($7.99). Shredded beef or chicken are available; the chicken we chose was tender and moist enough, the wrappers nicely crisped and grease-free. But again, they were awfully tame, without peppers or anything else to add a little life, and the sour cream and bland guacamole served with them didn’t do much to help.

Macayo’s menu does go beyond the tacos/enchiladas/burritos limitations of many of the old chains. We stayed with the chimichanga theme for the Grande Baja Chimi Dinner ($12.79), choosing the shredded beef over the ground beef, chicken or carnitas options. It was quite nice, the flour tortilla wrapper lightly crisped, the beef as tender as shredding would imply, and in a tomato-y sauce. Ladled across it were two more sauces — one with tomatoes and onions, the other a light white sauce laced with sour cream, plus a layer of cheese. This one was a little zippier thanks to tomato sauces, but still on the tame side. The guacamole that was to be served on the side was actually piled on top as well. Beans and rice were workmanlike, but nothing to write Mami about.

And OK, we expected the carnitas ($12.50) to be tame, since that’s the nature of the dish. It’s also a dish that’s by nature juicy and succulent and full of porky flavor, and it was all of those. Pico de gallo served on the side did add a little spark, though the beans and rice and guacamole were mostly mellow.

Service throughout was very good, our waiter prompt and pleasant. The decor was maybe just a little bit dated, but pleasant enough as well.

That Macayo’s food is pretty tame should come as no surprise to anyone who’s familiar with it. There’s a little symbol on the extensive menu that’s used to indicate that a dish is spicy, and we only found it on two dishes.

Yet the entire time we were in the restaurant on a normally slow weeknight, it was hopping with parties large and small. And I don’t mean to imply that this was strictly a white-bread clientele, because that was not the case.

I guess some are simply born to be mild, and Macayo’s fills their needs.

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