Bacanora in Phoenix, Arizona, Is It Worth The Hype?

So, Bacanora has been on Phoenix’s radar as a must-eat spot for a while now. Every first of the month, they drop reservations on Resy for the following month at 9 AM sharp, and let me tell you, those spots vanish faster than your willpower at a sample sale. They even snagged a spot on Netflix’s Taco Chronicles—talk about street cred!

Their Instagram? Total hipster bait, but in the best way possible. With all the rave reviews, my expectations were sky-high. I’m a sucker for a small joint with a tight menu because, honestly, that usually means they’ve got their dishes down to a fine art. And growing up with my mom’s family from Sonora, where they turn grilling meat into an art form, my standards for a good grill are pretty darn high. Bacanora’s whole vibe revolves around their massive wood-fired grill, churning out meats with that perfect char, so you know I was all in for this culinary adventure.

First Impressions

Pulling up to Bacanora, even the street oozed character. Trees decked out in fake grapes, one fully adorned with troll dolls—a nod to that Trolls movie—and let’s not forget about that wild trend of knit bombing where they dress trees in full-blown sweaters. Yeah, it’s as fun and funky as it sounds, a pop of color that’s like a visual espresso shot against the usual 'Phoenix suburbia beige' that I’m honestly not the biggest fan of (can you tell?). And the cute string lights? Chef’s kiss.

The restaurant itself is perched on a corner, right where the road forks, giving it this cool, almost triangular shape. Walking in, you get why reservations are a must; the place is cozy to say the least, with maybe eight tables max and some bar seating.

And the decor? It's like walking into a fiesta in a Wes Anderson movie—hanging papier-mâché animals, funky colors, just a super cool Mexican vibe that's also surprisingly minimal. The servers? Each one looked like they could spin a yarn about how they snagged their entire outfit from a local thrift shop, complete with a quirky little tattoo they got on a whim while backpacking in Prague. Basically, they're as cool as they come.

The Food

Alright, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty. Bacanora’s menu is super simple, which I find appealing—it usually means a restaurant has honed their dishes to perfection. Despite the hype, the prices weren’t too shocking. I hit up Bacanora with my sister Matiana, both of us on empty stomachs, ready to tackle the menu.

We faced a tough choice: opt for a bunch of smaller plates to sample a wider variety, or go big with their most famous dish—the forty-ounce bone-in ribeye, complete with quesadillas, frijoles con queso, roasted chiles, tortillas, and salsas, all for $225. We asked our server for advice, and she recommended the steak as THE thing to get. Taking her advice, we ordered the ribeye and started with an appetizer—the ceviche, priced at $28.

The ceviche was first to arrive, and honestly, it was a visual feast—colorful, vibrant, and just gorgeous. I'm not usually the biggest ceviche fan, but this one was delicious. It was a complex blend of citrus, sweet, and spicy flavors, with soft fish contrasted by the crunch of pepino and tostada—an overall incredible dish.

Now, onto the star of the show: the ribeye. And, well, it was... whatever, lol. For a steak that sets you back $225, you expect it to be tender and mouthwatering. However, this was tough—like, give your jaw a workout tough. While the accompaniments had their moments—the fantastic quesadilla and homey roasted chiles—the salsas were pretty average. The mild one was good (I’m always here for a solid salsa verde), the medium had a nice roasted flavor, but the hot one? It was like Campbell’s tomato soup trying to be spicy. The secret recipe frijoles were interesting but nothing revolutionary, reminding me of pinto beans in a chimichurri sauce—fun, unique, but not mind-blowing.

For dessert, we decided to try the gansito flan, inspired by the classic Mexican snack, priced at $16. As a Mexican girly who grew up eating gansitos, I was excited, but this dessert was a letdown. While it was pretty to look at, the flavor was underwhelming and had an odd black licorice aftertaste that lingered way too long. As a flan enthusiast, this was a major disappointment.

For the price and all the hype, I was expecting crazy complex flavors and meat that just falls apart with its tenderness. Was it good? Yeah. But was it "set an alarm on the first of the month to snag a reservation" good? Not really. It didn’t quite hit those heights.

Overall Experience

The vibe at Bacanora was honestly a breath of fresh air compared to the usual Phoenix scene. Nestled in its quirky, triangular space, the restaurant gives off super cute and intimate vibes with its eclectic Mexican decor—a stark contrast to the more expansive eateries around town. It’s fun, it’s pretty, and it feels like you've stepped into an indie movie set; think bright colors and a laid-back, hipster-indie vibe that just makes you want to chill and soak it all in.

The staff played a big part in making our visit memorable. They were nice, attentive, and knew their stuff, ensuring our food came out fast and our glasses stayed full. It was a fun break from the usual suburban drag of most places in Phoenix. Just being there, amidst the vibrant atmosphere and among people who seemed genuinely happy to serve and engage, added an extra layer of enjoyment to the evening.

Conclusion

Look, I totally get the hype around Bacanora—it's cool, fun, and funky, with a very special vibe that's hard to find anywhere else in Phoenix. The place itself is a visual treat, decked out in an eclectic style that makes every corner Instagram-worthy. But when it comes down to it, I'm all about the food and flavor. Yes, the presentation is gorgeous, but the flavor just wasn't there for me.

The food genuinely didn't wow me, and frankly, I don't feel the need to go back. When a spot is this hard to get into, with reservations vanishing like concert tickets and an ambiance that screams exclusivity, it sets the expectation that the food will be spectacular. It's almost like the difficulty in getting a table and the stunning setup make people want to believe the food is better than it is. But in my opinion, it's just not that spectacular.

Having traveled extensively and frequently visiting Sonora, I have a lot of experiences to compare this to—which is both a good and a bad thing. Maybe I would have loved Bacanora if I didn't have such high standards to measure it against. But hey, that's how it goes sometimes. For me, Bacanora is not worth the hype. It didn't wow me, and I don't need to return.