I've never been to Ensenada, but I'm willing to wager a case of Pacifico that these scrumptious bad boys live up to the name of the establishment. The goods (so meaty they're practically like fried chicken chunks) are a gorgeous, golden orange, and everything—from tortillas to the trademark skinny lettuce strands—is super-fresh. Doctor up your fishy bits with mild, medium and spicy sauces, all displayed with cheeky sayings, or the original "hot guac." Then, drizzle on a little white crema for the final touch--the standard cherry on top of this Mex. Bonus: The whimsical staff could not be friendlier, even when you're only shelling out a buck fifty.