Right across from Friends’ Bingo on Montreal Road—because of course that’s where you’d find it—Aztec Tacos sits nestled among a clutch of Latin American grocery stores and eateries. If you’ve lived in Ottawa long enough, you’ve probably driven past it a dozen times without clocking it. But walk inside, and the place doesn’t let you forget where you are. Yellow, pink, and turquoise walls explode with colour, Frida Kahlo stares you down from a dozen angles, and the sound of mariachi (or maybe heart-wrenching Mexican ballads?) pours out from two TVs hanging in opposite corners. It’s loud. It’s bright. It’s glorious.

We came on a Saturday around 1 p.m., and nearly every table was full. There’s a rhythm to the space that doesn’t feel accidental: snippets of Spanish, French, and English float around as servers—part of the tight-knit community that owns and runs the place—move quickly between tables. A few years ago, it was a quieter, more barebones operation. Today, it’s vibrant and buzzing.

Aztec Tacos has been on our radar for a while. We’d heard the whispers, fielded the recommendations, even gotten late-night texts from friends insisting we had to try it. So we finally made our way there—me, Danielle (my partner and co-writer of this blog), and our friend David, a CBC reporter who somehow hadn’t been yet. Spoiler: he’ll be back.

We ordered a bit of everything: lengua, chorizo, barbacoa, al pastor, and the runaway favourite—quesabirria. The lengua taco (beef tongue) set the tone. It’s tender, deeply marinated, and unapologetically flavourful—none of that bland, rubbery stuff you sometimes get with tongue. “This is exceptional Mexican food,” David said, pointing out the vivid green cilantro topping. “Look at this—it’s so fresh.”

The quesabirria, though, is what had us all nodding in agreement. Richly seasoned meat tucked between tortillas crisped on the grill, fused together with gooey, melted cheese. Served warm and golden, it’s the kind of comfort food that doesn’t ask for praise—but earns it anyway.

The barbacoa and chorizo held their own, the former soft and savoury, the latter punchy and rich with paprika. The al pastor brought that classic balance of sweet and heat, cooked to perfection—but next to the quesabirria, even great tacos played supporting roles.

Saturdays come with specials, and this week it was sopes and flautas. We opted for tamales instead—a bit of a wait, but worth it. The filling was light, almost sparse, but the shell had a crispy edge and a corn-forward flavour that worked beautifully with the tart green salsa on the side. David said it reminded him of pastelle, a Trini holiday dish wrapped in banana leaves. That comparison alone felt like a testament to the tamale’s warmth and familiarity.

And then there were the salsas. Smoky red, tangy green, and both fiery in their own way. These weren’t afterthoughts—they elevated every taco, cutting through the richness and brightening each bite. Lime wedges and fresh cilantro came standard, like the restaurant knew we’d want to assemble every mouthful just so.

We spoke with Juan, the owner, who told us the story behind Aztec Tacos. It started in 2019 as a small operation for their local church community in Vanier. “Everything we make is from scratch,” he says. “The sauces, the fillings, everything. We don’t buy anything premade.” That much is clear from the first bite.

In 2020, a fire shut them down for nearly a year. And then, of course, the pandemic. “We thought we’d lost everything,” Juan admits. But in April 2021, they reopened. And somehow, the word got out. Through nothing but word of mouth, the restaurant has grown a steady base of loyal fans from all over the city.

The staff? All part of the same church community. The vibe is equal parts family-run and deeply rooted in tradition. Recipes come from Guadalajara, and you can taste the heritage in every dish. Juan suggests trying the arrachera (marinated skirt steak), the gringas (cheese-stuffed flour tortillas), and—of course—the quesabirria with consommé.

They’ve since opened a second location nearby and plan to eventually move into a larger space that can seat up to 300. But the original still holds that charm of a place built by hand, by heart, and by community.

There’s a quiet strength behind Aztec Tacos. It’s in the way the staff greet you like you’ve been there before. It’s in the food, which speaks in bold, confident flavours without ever trying too hard. And it’s in the way they’ve rebuilt—twice now—without ever compromising their identity.

And let’s talk value. We ordered generously—tacos, tamales, drinks, the works—and still came out at around $25 a person. Most tacos hover around the five-dollar mark, which makes them cheaper than many non-authentic spots in the city (unless you catch a happy hour), but here they come packed with flavour and tradition. Larger platters, like the flautas or sopes, sit comfortably under 20 bucks and arrive with enough food to satisfy even the hungriest lunch crowd.

Eat the Strip isn’t about trend-chasing or hype machines. It’s about stories like this—of resilience, of flavour, of tacos so good they stick with you. Aztec Tacos is exactly the kind of hidden gem we’re here for.

And the quesabirria? Worth the wait. Worth the hype. Worth the return visit.