My neighbor Deb has been telling me to go to El Camino Real for two years. Two years. She’d bring it up at block parties, mention it when I complained about bad chips anywhere else, and once texted me a photo of their enchiladas at 11 p.m. on a Tuesday. I finally went on a gray February Saturday, and I’ve been quietly annoyed at myself for waiting so long.
El Camino Real sits on South Reynolds Road in the kind of commercial strip that doesn’t suggest anything extraordinary — a parking lot, a modest sign, other businesses on either side doing their own thing. Walk in and the room is warm and a little crowded even at noon, which is always a good sign. The booths are comfortable, the lighting is low enough to feel relaxed without being dim, and you can hear Spanish being spoken at a couple of the nearby tables. The clientele is genuinely mixed: families with kids in booster seats, older couples who clearly come every week, a few people eating alone and not looking self-conscious about it.
I started with the queso fundido, which arrived in a small cast-iron skillet, bubbling, with a side of fresh tortillas. This is not the gluey yellow dip that passes for queso at most Tex-Mex chains. It’s actual melted cheese — Oaxacan-style, with a stretch to it — and chorizo folded in, and it tastes like something someone made with intention. I ate too much of it and did not regret this.
For my main I went with the mole enchiladas, which Deb had photographed at 11 p.m. The mole is the real draw here: dark, complex, with that particular bittersweet depth that takes time to develop. It’s not trying to be a novelty. It just tastes right. I also tried a bite of my friend’s chile verde, slow-cooked pork in a tomatillo sauce that had good heat without announcing itself aggressively. The rice and beans on both plates were clearly made in-house, not out of a can or a bag.
The margaritas are worth ordering. They’re not elaborate — lime, tequila, salt on the rim — but they’re properly made and not oversweetened, which is a bar that more places should clear than do. Two of them plus a full lunch ran us about $28 a person, which felt very fair for how much food we had left on the table.
Service was attentive without being hovering. Our server checked in at the right moments, refilled the chips without being asked, and when I asked about the mole she gave me an actual answer rather than a rehearsed one. The kitchen was clearly moving fast — it was busy — but nothing felt rushed on our end.
I’ve been back three times since that first visit. Once on a weeknight, once after a Mud Hens game when I needed something more substantial than stadium food, and once just because it was raining and I wanted that queso fundido again. Each time the food has been consistent, which matters more over time than any single great meal.
If you’re in the south Toledo or Sylvania area and you haven’t been, go on a weekday if you can — weekends get busy enough that you might wait for a table. Either way, call ahead or be prepared to wait. It’s worth it, and Deb will tell you the same thing.
