Armando's

Armando's is Mexicantown royalty. It opened as a little taco house on Vernor in 1967 and kept swallowing neighboring storefronts until it filled the whole building — and this is the kitchen where Detroit's botana was invented: chips buried under beans and chorizo, capped with a mountain of melted Muenster. Aztec warrior murals, margaritas, a parking lot out back, and half a century of devoted regulars. By all accounts it's an institution, even if some longtime regulars grumble that the kitchen and service wobble on off nights.

Now, the restrooms. The word here is genuinely split. Some reviewers call the place clean top to bottom, women's room included — a few even gush over the hallway and bathroom doors being adorably decorated. Others tell a different story: one flagged a dirty restroom where the hourly cleaning checklist on the door hadn't been signed off in a couple hours. That's the classic shape of a 5 — a 50-plus-year-old building that's fine when the staff stays on top of it and rough when they don't. Don't expect frills; expect a coin flip that usually lands somewhere around okay.

Come for the botana and the history, and hope you catch the restroom on one of its good days. Armando's lands at a 5/10 on Shooki.