When a friend informed me she had eaten “some good Mexican food” at a restaurant in Pacific Beach that rivaled the usual slop served in Old Town or at any of the big chains, I immediately said, “Let’s go.” Her timing was ideal, calling me at the peak of a two-week cycle when I invariably begin craving a little salsa and cotija cheese in my diet.

I’d actually long wanted to check out Gringo’s, linked under Miller Enterprises to the stylish JRDN restaurant a few blocks away. With two other companions in tow, we discovered a relatively progressive menu of Ameri-Mex dishes cloaked in bold sauces made of fruit, cream and chilies that you won’t find at other joints serving Jacuzzi-size margaritas.

I’m always amazed when I enter the core of Pacific Beach that two gay bars once operated within this MTV culture of shot-slamming frat boys and the squealy voiced babes they chase. Arriving to Gringo’s just moments after the San Diego Chargers lost to the New England Patriots last weekend, I was sadly reminded that there’s about as much sexual diversity in these parts as what you’ll find at Hooters on a Saturday night.

Choosing to sit initially in the large, modernly appointed dining room, we soon leapt from our heavy wooden chairs onto the heated patio to escape the juvenile shouting emanating from the bar area. I think a burping contest was underway.

Respite came in the form of a warm fire pit, plus a basket of heated chips accompanied with feisty salsa and creamy jalapeño sauce (like that served at Miguel’s) and a classic, but obscure appetizer called mini chiles en nogada. The latter featured a few poblano chiles stuffed with ground beef and pork and sweetened with raisins, pomegranate reduction and a walnut cream sauce that one could easily imagine as glaze for coffee cake. It’s a century-old recipe derived from the culinary matriarchs of Puebla, tastefully capturing the colors of the Mexican flag (red, green and white), while showcasing the crafty use of nuts common in kitchens throughout interior pockets of Mexico.

Interspersing a fair number of regional Mexican dishes is a smattering of commonplace items such as tortilla soup, which could have withstood more garlic and pasilla chilies. A friend in the group termed his cheese enchilada and chile relleno as “nothing unusual,” although he cited the spices as “bright tasting.” And when we asked our waitress what the best-selling entrées are, she replied, “The fajitas are really popular.” Glancing back inside at the swelling gaggles of year-round spring breakers braving the cold night air in flip-flops, we should’ve known.

Soaring above the usual taco-enchilada offerings was chile Colorado, a liberal piling of stew beef tenderized by a powerful, dark-red sauce made of subtly sweet guajillo chilies. After picking from everyone’s plates, it became my preferred dish of the evening–and the pliant meat made for a couple of terrific tacos that I hand rolled at our table, tossing into the flour tortillas some of the bacony beans and standard guacamole served alongside.

An order of carnitas cooked supposedly in a traditional copper pot (but not served in it) was anti-climatic. The meat tasted stale, as though it had been reheated more than once over the previous days. My friend who ordered it simply dismissed the chunky pork as “too salty.”

Another in our group opted for tampiquena and expressed praise right down to the last bite. The starring ingredient was a thin slab of top sirloin griddled darkly to the point where it appeared overdone. The meat nonetheless turned out tender, although in my opinion it left too much of a fried aftertaste that I equate to cheaper cuts of beef cooked in less sophisticated kitchens. Accompanying the steak was a buttery tasting enchilada filled with manchego cheese and an excellent potato-chile gratin constructed with thinly sliced spuds layering in onions and soft-roasted poblanos.

The menu caters nicely to those “gringos” on the hunt for something other than burritos and fajitas, despite a sometimes-raucous patronage that seemingly becomes more dazzled by the gigante margaritas than semi-gourmet twists applied to the cuisine. Forget rolled tacos buried in sour cream. There’s plenty of that down the street. You’ll instead find more intricate dishes here, such as herb-crusted pork loin, roasted chicken in orange chipotle glaze, mango-mustard salmon and New York strip steak laced in pink peppercorn brandy demi glaze.

In addition to a lengthy selection of tequilas and brilliantly colored margaritas, the wine list features several cult labels from Paso Robles mixed with everyday bulk producers that dominate the grocery store shelves – still a much better vino program that anything you’ll find along San Diego Avenue.

Would I return to Gringo’s when that maniacal desire for south-of-the-border grub strikes again? Yes, but not on a day when a San Diego sports team is playing, nor on any weekend evening and certainly never during spring break! The sophomoric spirit of PB doesn’t sit well in my frijoles.