Madison's Mexican-food market becomes even more crowded (and perhaps more "dank")

Just like any other self-respecting American city, Madison often seems to have more Mexican restaurants than it knows what to do with, from the charming likes of Taqueria Guadalajara to margaritas-and-refritos barns like Pedro's. And still, new Mexican (or at least nominally Mexican-themed) spots continue to open. The A.V. Club looks at the latest crop and speculates upon what they’ll need to do to survive.

Las Cazuelas
The glass-enclosed free-standing fireplace, cozy booths, and tasteful decor at Las Cazuelas (15 N. Butler St., 608-327-2828) all make it feel upscale. The food actually follows through, too, with tacos full of steak doused with salsa de arbol, and crisped pork carnitas rolled into corn tortillas and smothered with sweet mole and queso fresco.

Key to survival: This restaurant must overcome an awkward location to survive, but the Las Cazuelas menu is perfectly poised to do so, striking a pitch-perfect balance of ambience, cost, and tradition. (The mole is a family recipe.)

La Mestiza
The upstarts managing La Mestiza (121 E. Main St., 608-661-2793) leveraged an impressive array of delicate platos mexicanos at a mini-mall on the West Side (6644 Odana Rd., 608-826-0178) to finance a recently opened second location in a coveted off-the-Square spot. The draw is in the quality ingredients powering Mestiza's shrimp-centric ceviche, slow-cooked banana-wrapped pork, and chile rellenos stuffed with Chihuahua cheese.
Key to survival: La Mestiza needs to continue to impress locals lusting after that sweet, sweet ceviche, but the place also needs to figure out a way to make the most of its limited seating downtown.

Taco Heaven
Blatantly beckoning to area stoners with menu items like "dank" nachos, "phat Philly" wraps and "Thai stick" pitas, Taco Heaven (320 W. Johnson St., 608-251-3265) is admirably single-minded in its marketing message. Hardly working with actual south-of-the-border traditions, the food roams freely out of Mexico and into the land of cheese curds, burgers, and hot dogs. It's a step up from nearby chain competitors, but still average in taste and conceptually puzzling.
Key to survival: Forget about targeting stoners. Taco Heaven's best hope is to go after college students blitzed on keg beer, the group most likely to shrug and scarf the indifferent mash of bland beef, rice, and lettuce rolled into the $7.75 "king-sized" burrito, which isn't even that big.