Read time: 6 min.

I’ve written about my favorite local restaurant, Juan’s Mexican Grill in Chesterfield, Indiana, before, but only to the extent of its status as an old Ben Franklin dime store. Now it’s time for a proper review. Spoiler alert: Juan’s is excellent! Mostly. 

After Ben Franklin closed, the building that’s now home to Juan’s eventually became an auction house. Later, it became El Rancho Poblano. I’d eaten there a couple of times before it changed over to Juan’s. With a festive Mexican flag motif and colorful paintings adorning the windows, the restaurant is much more inviting than any of its previous incarnations. The only key to its provenance as Ben Franklin is a pair of door handles still imprinted with its name. 

Walking through the doors, you’re greeted by yet another burst of festive décor before someone eventually appears to guide you to a booth or table. Even when the parking lot is packed, finding a seat is rarely a problem: Juan’s sprawls across an impressive 6,600 square feet, making it far larger than most people probably realize. For perspective, it’s nearly three times the size of a typical Taco Bell, a sixth larger than a normal Bob Evans, and, fittingly enough, the same size as one of the old Ben Franklin five-and-dimes. It feels enormous for a local Mexican restaurant.

Before I go further, I need to tell you a story. Years ago, when I returned to college as a non-traditional student, I was subjected to a banal and compulsory one-credit orientation course designed to ensure every student knew how to use Canvas, the school’s online learning platform. One early assignment asked us to write about the quality we valued most in a restaurant. A few people answered food. Most said service. My response was different: for me, the experience mattered most. 

If you’re some kind of sultan or emperor who considers impeccable service the most important part of dining out, Juan’s will immediately test your patience. The hospitality there has been unfailingly awful since day one! Whether the place is packed or nearly empty, a typical visit involves waiting five or ten minutes before chips and salsa appear, followed by another lengthy stretch before someone circles back to ask what you want to drink. Refills are less a guarantee and more an act of divine intervention unless you’ve plotted two hours out for lunch. Over time, I’ve learned the survival strategy is to order my entrée the moment someone finally asks about my Diet Coke or Pacifico.

Oh well. Although it may take a while to arrive, the moment the chips and salsa finally hit the table is the start of a genuine event. The chips themselves are pretty standard fare, but the salsa is a superstar: it’s fresh and bright, most often with a kick to it. The flavor leans heavily on cilantro -or coriander, if you’re British- which gives it an addictive floral quality. I prefer to use the chips as edible spoons, shirtfront be damned, and usually demolish two bowls of the red stuff before the entrées make it to the table.

Over the years, I’ve worked my way through a substantial portion of Juan’s menu. I’ve tackled Juanito’s Taco Salad loaded with steak, chicken, and shrimp; street tacos on corn tortillas piled with onions and cilantro; rich Mole Oaxaqueño; Enchiladas Tri-Color smothered in three different sauces; deep-fried chicken chimichangas; and just about anything with salsa verde. On my most recent visit, though, I fell back on an old standby: Arroz con Pollo, known between my brother and me as the three-dip special. 

The rice at Juan’s is softer than anywhere else we’ve tried and that makes the difference, even though the ACP is simple. Just as advertised, it features grilled chicken strips over rice, buried beneath a blanket of cheese sauce and served with three tortillas. Only when I’m not with my Mom or other people of importance do I employ my favorite method of eating it- palming the empty tortilla like a glove and brazenly reaching in to grab. As a matter of fact, that’s what I did the other day! Thankfully, no one was watching. 

Juan’s plate of Arroz con Pollo runs $10.99, which feels like a bargain these days. You’ll spend, what, that much at McDonald’s for a medium Big Arch combo these days? Heaven help you when it comes to Wendy’s and their terrible new chicken sandwich! At Juan’s, throw in $3.75 for a beer and you get a sit-down meal in a lively dining room with fresh salsa, endless chips if you’re patient enough, and the tastiest food you’re likely to taste in East-Central Indiana. That’s not just my opinion: Juan’s took home the 2025 Best of Madison County award in terms of Mexican food, and it won that over phenomenal establishments like El Burro Loco, Fiesta Bar, La Charreada, Lindo, and stalwart Riviera Maya. 

Juan’s abysmal service and unpredictable pacing make it less than perfect. On many visits, I’ve had more than enough time to contemplate my own mortality before the salsa arrives! Still, between traditional Mexican lunches and meals tailored a little more toward Hoosier tastes, Juan’s consistently delivers. The food is excellent, the portions are generous, and the prices somehow remain reasonable.

Sure, you may wait longer than you’d like for a refill, and there’s a decent chance your server disappears- perhaps for good. Once the ACP, street tacos, enchiladas, or chimichangas finally arrive, though, all of those frustrations evaporate. Juan’s feels authentic not because it’s polished, but because it isn’t. It’s messy, memorable, flavorful, and entirely its own thing. Just don’t show up during any sort of time crunch.