“How do they get away with using the name “Shihuahua” instead of Chihuahua,” I pondered, noting to myself that wokeism and cultural sensitivities have declared offensive virtually any term that is perceived to diminish a culture or an individual (that perception usually being in the eye of the offended). Surely, the National Mexican-American Anti-Defamation Committee would take umbrage at that name, much as it did more than fifty years ago when Frito Lay introduced the Frito Bandito. For those of you not geriatrically advanced enough to remember the Frito Bandito, he was a cartoon mascot who spoke broken English and robbed people of their Fritos corn chips, a reference to the “Mexican bandit” stereotype in Western movies.
As if to reinforce my point about people becoming easily offended, Arriba Shihuahua had to respond to a Yelp reviewer’s one-star rating: “We would like to clarify some things. The channels we put on TV do not aim to polarize or discriminate anyone’s political beliefs, but rather serve to entertain customers. (The news was actually a request from a customer.) We’re sorry if it offended you in any way. However, we do not appreciate our personal beliefs being automatically assumed and being disrespected for it. We don’t think it’s fair that we get a 1 star review based solely on our choice of TV channel. We usually stream regular channels like Disney plus, Netflix, HBO, etc. It just so happened you came when a customer requested the news.”
Rather than dwelling on malapropisms or attacking a restaurant on Yelp because a television was tuned to a program perceived to be offensive, it would behoove diners to meet and speak with Arriba Shihuahua’s owners. This is a family-owned and operated restaurant in every sense of the word. You won’t find a nicer family. A very youthful mom and her daughter run the kitchen while a son runs the front of the house. Availing myself of the opportunity, I asked why the restaurant’s unique spelling of Chihuahua, the Mexican state where the family comes from. In Chihuahua, the pronunciation “Shihuahua” is apparently not only pretty common, it’s not frowned upon. It brought to mind the many Hispanic New Mexicans I’ve known who pronounce “Ch” words as “Sh” words. So there! Absolutely nothing to be offended about.
In the spirit of equal treatment, it’s only fair that I explain the term “Arriba,” too. “Arriba” (pronounced ah-REE-bah) primarily means “up” or “above.” However, it’s also used as an exclamation of encouragement, excitement, or to urge someone to go or do something. It’s similar to saying “let’s go!,”,”get up,!” or “come on!.” Consider yourself lucky if you grew up watching Saturday morning cartoons in Spanish and got to hear Speedy Gonzalez, the fastest mouse in all of Mexico, utter his battle cry of “Arriba! Arriba! Andale! Andale!. It was a Saturday morning staple for kids growing up in the 1960s. Undoubtedly, Speedy offended a lot of people.
We’ve now concluded this part of my review which consisted of a language lesson and railing against sensitivity. I hope it didn’t offend you too much. If you know me, you’ve probably discerned that I would be offended only if the food at Arriba Shihuahua wasn’t up-to-par. Thankfully that wasn’t the case. In fact, Arriba Shihuahua has one of the best menus of any Mexican restaurant in the Duke City. On the menu are several items not found at other Mexican restaurants. Service is as warm as the food ferried over to your table. Best of all, it’s all made to order with high quality, fresh ingredients.
The menu does include many of the “usual suspects” such as tacos, burritos, quesadillas and nachos. That doesn’t mean they’re prepared the same way other restaurants prepare them–like some sort of template. The “loaded papas,” for example, will make a misnomer of any other baked potatoes which are described as “loaded.” The menu lists some fourteen “proteins” with which you can ask for your burritos and tacos to be constructed. Numerous vegetarian items are also available as are a number of “specialties” for both breakfast and lunch.
Arriba Shihuahua is ensconced in a strip mall on Tramway Blvd., about a mile north of Central Avenue. Sushi Xuan is one of its neighbors. The restaurant is much deeper than it is wide. You’ll place your order at the counter within feet of the restaurant’s entrance. A menu hangs overhead, but don’t forget to study the day’s specials scrawled on a slateboard. Feel free to ask questions. It’s obvious from the answers you’ll get that the family takes a lot of pride in the menu and is eager to have you try it all. Take time to study the art on the wall and enjoy the tin mariachi sculptures (one of which we joked looks exactly like our friend John Martin.)
Not long after we’d seated ourselves, our server ferried over a basket of chips with con queso to our table. He also invited us to visit the salsa bar where eight gleaming steel vessels awaited. Five of those vessels contained salsa (including one with the warning “red hot.” The remaining three vessels were reserved for pickled jalapeños, limes and toreados, those fiery peppers many diners eschew. The con queso has just a bit of heat (not enough for me, but too much for my Kim). Chips are crisp triangles of corn-flavored deliciousness. They’re low-in-salt and served warm.
You don’t always know what you’re going to get when a restaurant menu offers “elotes.” In many cases, “elotes” are served in a bowl–which technically makes them esquites. We always ask for a description just make sure of what we’re getting. At Arriba Shihuaha,Fried elotes mean fried corn-on-the-cob slathered with lime, chile, Cojita cheese and crema. They can be customized for your tastes (such as no chile for my Kim). Six two-inch cob slices are a nice portion size. Even with my Kim sharing with me and our friend Lynn Garner, she had plenty of elote.
Over the years I’ve mentioned ad-nauseam (maybe ad-infinitum) that Mexican restaurants prepare baked potatoes better than restaurants from any other genre. Arriba Shihuahua doesn’t serve a conventional baked potato with all the usual baked potato trappings (butter, chives, cheese, sour cream). Instead, it features loaded papas in two sizes (small and large). A large papa is family-sized, but so good you might not want to share it. “Loaded” means a mountainous plate of cubed and fried papitas topped with queso, pico de gallo, crema, guacamole, beans, chopped tomatoes and your choice of protein (picadillo, pollo asado, deshebrada, al pastor, discada, chicharron, carne asada, carnitas, carne adovada, fish and shrimp). This isn’t just a meal. It’s an edible adventure, a pleasure cruise through ingredients that work exceptionally well together. My protein of choice was al pastor which had “nutmeggy” notes I hadn’t experienced before with al pastor. Every morsel was magnificent.
At most of our dining excursions in which loaded baked potatoes are involved, the potatoes are a side. Invariably, an entree graces our table. Thinking the loaded papas would provide a similar experience, I ordered a shredded beef torta as my “main course.” I didn’t even touch it save for putting it in a to-go bag for a later meal. A bounteous bolillo bread canvas is barely big enough to hold in all the ingredients–shredded beef, cheese, tomatoes, onions, guacamole, ham, lettuce and beans (yes, beans)–without falling apart. Even reheated, this is a terrific torta, one of the best we’ve enjoyed in the Duke City. Jim Behmyer, the brilliant sandwichologist at The Sandwich Tribunal provides a wonderful treatise on tortas at the link at left.
If pastrami is the “most sensual of all salted cured meats,” carnitas (translated literally as “little meats) may be the most boring of all Mexican proteins. More than most items, carnitas illustrate how different my tastes are from my Kim’s. While I like flavors to explode with piquancy, seasoning and diversity, she likes to be able to taste each item unencumbered by distractions. That’s why she loves carnitas, slow-cooked pork simmered in its own fat until tender then crisped up. Grilled onions are the only accompaniment she asked for. Arriba Shihuahua proves simplicity can be absolutely delicious. Even I couldn’t complain about these tasty cubes. Carnitas are served with rice and refried beans (not pictured). Lynn, John and I polished off the beans, concurring with alacrity just how good they were.
Ice cream tacos are not a new concept. Klondike sold them for years, its version consisting of a waffle cone “taco shell” stuffed with vanilla ice cream, dipped in milk chocolate and topped with peanuts. During the Cabrona Virus, Klondike discontinued their “Choco Taco” as a portfolio-reduction tactic. What a joy it was to learn that Arriba Shihuahua offers an ice cream taco for dessert. There’s beautiful simplicity in this delicious dessert. It’s solely a crispy sopapilla stuffed with vanilla ice cream. The sopaipilla is generously dusted with cinnamon and drizzled with caramel. It’s even better than described here. Much better!
Arriba Shihuahua is one of those restaurants you would love to have in your neighborhood. That would, of course, mean caloric overindulgence. That’s what treadmills are for.
Arriba Shihuahua Mexican Grill
417 Tramway Boulevard, N.E., Suite 12
Albuquerque, New Mexico
505-318-0668
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 24 July 2025
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$
BEST BET: Ice Cream Taco, Chips and Con Queso, Shredded Beef Torta, Loaded Baked Potato, Elotes, Carnitas
REVIEW #1480
“chips with con queso” 🙄 Should this be addressed in the language lesson part of the review?
Hmm, though it may appear to be a malapropism, I beleive the context is correct. “Con queso” is a shortened name for “Chile Con Queso” (even though jalapeños are more commonly used than chile) so “con queso” is the name of a dish served with chips.
Reminds me of The La Trattoria:
https://clip.cafe/mickey-blue-eyes-1999/well-at-least-tell-what-restaurants-called/
Exactamundo. Around here, some mediocreologists refer to the Rio Grande as the “Rio Grand River.” Now, that’s wrong!