DECISIVENESS IS OVERRATED Try three of six guacamole styles in the sampler.

Momocho isn't your typical madre-y-padre Mexican restaurant, a fact made plain by the conspicuous absence of chips and salsa, the obligatory pre-taco treat. Other clues signal a shift from what we've come to expect from our beloved south-of-the-border cantina: Margaritas are infused with real fruit, melted cheese isn't doled out by the gallon, and the guitar-strumming mariachi have all had their visas revoked.

Of course, this is precisely what chef-owner Eric Williams had in mind when he dreamt up Momocho, a restaurant he describes as "modern Mexican." "This will be the only Mexican restaurant in Cleveland doing this kind of food," he told me during the planning stages. "Don't come here for quesadillas. Don't come here for burritos. That's not what this place is about."

Don't come for the setting, either, if you've grown fond of the kitsch-strewn atmosphere found at most Mexican dives. Momocho laid claim to the seductive Ohio City dwelling that was, for nearly a decade, home to the Fulton Bar and Grill — and there isn't a sombrero or piñata to be found. The bi-level restaurant features a first-floor bar and dining room, familiar to all who've visited the Fulton, and a more tranquil second-floor dining room. A few fortunate souls can secure seats at a counter directly in front of the open kitchen.

Williams, no stranger to pan-ethnic cuisine, spent considerable time running the kitchens of nearby Johnny Mango and Cleveland Heights' Lopez Bar and Grille. And while comparisons to Lopez are unavoidable, Williams vociferously distinguishes his food by pointing out that Lopez is Tex-Mex and Southwestern (despite the undeniable fact that there are nearly identical dishes on the menus of both).

Chips and salsa may not magically sprout from every tabletop, but order any of the guacamoles and a basket of warm, perfectly fried tortillas will find its way to you. Creamy, bright green guacamole is available in six styles and the sampler ($16), presented on a long wooden plank, is an ideal way to sample half of them. The jicama and pineapple offers a sweet and spicy tug-of-war between tropical fruit and fiery habañero. Smoked trout and bacon, another variety, swaps guacamole's expected top notes of lime and cilantro with a moodier, earthier palate.

If taste-testing sounds particularly fun, consider continuing the theme with a margarita sampler ($12). While the ginger-lemon variety struck many in our group as misplaced, the blood orange, mango and pomegranate versions are all delicious. In addition to the margaritas, Momocho serves a nice selection of fine tequilas and Mexican brews. There is a small selection of intriguing Spanish and Brazilian wines, though availability has been unpredictable.

Williams and his chef, Nolan Konkoski, make a point of satisfying their constituents with a generous assortment of vegetarian dishes. In an updated (and meatless) chile relleno ($7.50), a large poblano pepper is filled with smoky Gouda cheese, mushrooms and corn. The puffy pepper is battered in cornmeal tempura, fried and served on a spicy tomato sauce.

Taquitos, roll-your-own soft tacos, are available with seven different fillings, two of which are veggie. You wouldn't think potato ($10) would make for a flavorful filler, but thanks to a vibrant garlic-cilantro sauce, the Peruvian blue potatoes do just that. Even better are the carnitas ($14), tender pork tips braised in a lush chile and vinegar sauce. A verdant salsa verde and a sweet-smoky chipotle sauce are on hand to dress up the tortillas. Other fillers include sliced flatiron steak, grilled tilapia and garlic shrimp.

It normally takes multiple meals to stumble upon a restaurant's cream-of-the-crop entree, but I struck gold on my very first visit to Momocho. In a dish not unlike huevos rancheros, the chilaquiles ($16) tucks crab and smoked trout into a satisfying stack of soft tortillas. This Mexican-style lasagna is topped with salsa verde, a judicious amount of cheese and a fried egg, its yolk blissfully runny.

I wasn't as lucky on a subsequent visit when I ordered the chicken chop with mole ($16). The dish's Achilles heel wasn't the mole, which is dark, nutty, sweet and spicy, with pronounced notes of cinnamon, it was the chicken. The overcooked airline breast, so lifeless that no amount of sauce could rescue it, reminded me why I rarely order poultry.

Part of the problem may be kitchen versus seating. On balmy nights when the patio, upstairs and first-level dining rooms are filled, the overtaxed kitchen struggles to keep up. Adept and kind servers do their best to shorten the gaps between courses, and manager John McDonnell is as eager to please as ever, but this issue may simply require time to iron itself out. Time I'm more than willing to afford it.