There was a time in Scottsdale when its citizens roamed free, able to go out without being hunted by cougars, or come face to face with D-bags and 30K Millionaires. It was a peaceful place, where the majority of people engaged in simple crafts like weaving cotton and forging horseshoes. And it was into this community that the prescient Corrall family came, making there way north from the Mexican state of Sonora in 1919. They built an adobe structure on the outskirts of town under olive trees which was used for many purposes. Obviously aware that Scottsdale would burgeon into a world-class resort town, the family decided to open a restaurant to serve traditional Mexican cuisine and capitalize on the growing popularity of things like Cheech Marin and ponchos.
Today, however, someone walking into the "Patio" will likely say to himself or herself: "This is probably going to be like eating at Acapulco". And unfortunately nothing could be farther from the truth. Los Olivos is described as an "institution" but you'd never guess by that reputation how low the ceilings are. As the Corralls expanded the property so too did it enhance the labyrinthine characteristic of the restaurant. Yet this growth is positive: I've never had to wait for a table. While I've been seated in various rooms, there isn't one that I like best. Despite reminding me a little of the Mos Eisely Cantina, it manages to stay cool and dim during the summer giving it a special allure when I first ate there.
The service is probably the most unusual you will find in Scottsdale. You will find no pushiness here, you will also find lots of bilingual servers who can handle your order in both Spanish and English. And yes, because it's been around forever some of the servers have been too. They may seem a little distant, but it's only because this is one of those places in the 'dale that caters to the whole city and as such has a very diverse clientele.
Undoubtedly you'll notice that like Acapulco, Los Olivos loves to promote its fajitas and margaritas. But the fact is, they do an excellent job of offering a wide variety of dishes such that you can eat here often and not have to order the same thing. Moreover they are fairly consistent in keeping the menu Sonoran in focus. This will sound pedestrian, until you realize that Mexican cuisine suffers the same image problem that Chinese does. Namely when only certain areas of the country could immigrate, they had a disproportionate impact on how the cuisine was represented in the U.S. And so the Patio sticks mainly to beef and some chicken with only a few plates using seafood.
This is also one of the places biggest complaints: that this authentic Sonoran food is as bland as a telenovela adapted for American TV. But this is actually why you know you it's not Margarita Monday: US chains are known to add such high level of sugar to recipes as to make dishes artificially sweet. The food here is not sweet at all, and hence good news for your pre-diabetes, but bad news for your craven palette. (European tourists take note, disregard these comments.)
Yet I found myself going to Los Olivos in the first place because of the price. Yes, this is an affordable restaurant. Some entrees are less than $10 and give one an economical choice amidst the orgy of maxed out credit cards in Old Town. Parking is also free and convenient because it is adjacent to a large, city-owned structure for the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art.
Perhaps the greatest irony with is that the once trendsetting Corrals are portrayed today as conservative with their restaurant's image. But no matter, as Scottsdale treasures its history as much as being hip. So Los Olivos remains a good bet if you're looking for something staid. And if you are not, there's always Cowboy Ciao.