I think it was the posole. About 11 years ago, the original Cactus Grille on South Main Street caught my attention, and enthusiasm, as a narrow, funky little sliver of a bar that effortlessly managed to also be a good Mexican restaurant. It wasn’t the cutesy bandito-bedecked mural; it might have been the obscure beers with names like Rattlesnake and Blackened Voodoo Lager. But it probably was the posole — a chicken and pork soup with big kernels of hominy and another ingredient — lettuce — to throw off the tourists.

The next incarnation, on Richmond Street, was in a huge, noisy dance hall of a space. A few visits gave me the impression that there was more interest in selling pitchers of margaritas and beer than in the food preparation. Additional Cactus Grilles opened in a Boston suburb and Smithfield, but all three had closed down by last year.

In January, two of the owners of the original place, Jason and Beth Brown, opened the doors on a new Cactus Grille that seems to have merged the kitchen aspirations of the first with the elbow room and tequila-oriented smarts of the second. This time the décor is a touch tonier — not quite fern bar, but I did notice a dangling philodendron. Two dining rooms, kind of like Chili’s without the tchotchkes, and tables by the bar for smokers.

For a couple of lunchtime visits, a friend and I sat in sight of the beer taps, for the sunshine rather than the smoke — although the chipotle salsa supplied that pretty well. It was much sweeter than the version I loved a decade before. (I understand that Mexico-born Carmine Lopez won’t reveal her recipes to chef Lenny Carpenter.) It comes with two other salsas — a fresh chopped tomato one with plenty of cilantro, and a rojo with a chunk of avocado — and a pile of corn chips for $1.99. That’s all of four cents more than the 1992 price, so it must be successful as a loss leader.

There aren’t quite as many beers available to go with the chips, but there is Dos Equis on tap and a half-dozen Mexican varieties in bottles. I was intrigued by one of the numerous margarita choices ($4.95-$6.25) and pleased after ordering it — not only did the almondy Amaretto not overpower it, there was enough tequila to keep its flavor down to the post-meal ice cube dregs.

Our other preliminaries were as satisfying. No lettuce in the soups, sadly. The corn chowder ($2.99/$4.99) was thick and creamy. The "award-winning" chili ($3.99/$5.99) is a wonder: not only is it bean-free, to pack in more meat, but the ground beef and pork mixture has beef chunks added, to vary the texture. Nicely spiced, too. (Bowl-size orders of both are a particular bargain since they come with a small cheese quesadilla that is three bucks by itself.)

The hotness was way on the mild side in all of the spicy dishes we ordered — quite reasonable, since you can always add — but not subtract — heat. However, no Tabasco or other interesting sauce is available, just pedestrian Frank’s, and not even that unless you flag down your server.

On our first visit, I had shrimp fajitas ($12.99). As well as pork, beef, or chicken, also available are wild mushroom or grilled eggplant versions. Out came eight medium shrimp sizzling loudly on a cast-iron pan amidst onions and peppers, an awkward number to divide among three hot tortillas, but fresh. Generous portions of tomato salsa, guacamole, and sour cream came on the side, as well as small amounts of yellow rice and pintos. There were heaps of those two sides on my friend’s pork enchilada ($6.99), but quite disappointing was that the entrée item was hardly larger than a tamale, even though it wasn’t the smaller ($4.99) offering. Tantalizingly, it was quite delicious from its mysterious spices.

On our second pass through the menu, we chose dinner items. This time his Cajun salmon ($11.99) was the hit, as fresh as can be and moist, again not hot from the blackened spices but still appetizing. Its accompanying pineapple-dominated tropical salsa was an appreciated touch. Both our dishes had tasty skin-on smashed potatoes, though the garlic of its description was undetectable. A steamed veggie medley with an interesting tang also came with my chipotle-lime chicken ($10.99). This time it was my turn to envy the plate across the table since the breast was overcooked, which leeched out the tequila-lime that had infused it. And there was no discernable cilantro, a billed item, to fill out the taste.

On both occasions we ended up too full to check out the desserts: Kahlua bread pudding, flan, and cheesecake. As well as ice cream. I wonder if one is posole-flavored.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at billrod@reporters.net