Tucked deep in North Circle Plaza, Las Cazuelas is one of those tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Mexican restaurants with a handful of tables and the same familiar face serving you each time you visit.

You won’t miss it, though. The neon in the window declares the restaurant’s presence like a beacon in a storm.

Most neighborhood Mexican restaurants have a specialty, an angle. It could be a regional focus or culinary philosophy or a dedication to taste-bud-rupturing spice. Las Cazuelas, which means “the saucepans” in Spanish, seems focused on fresh, mildly seasoned Mexican staples, which are served in their own time by a friendly staff.

The kitchen is skilled with dishes that are high-heat seared. For instance, my pepper-crusted Carne Asada entrée ($8.50) was lovely, arriving steaming and sizzling on a painted earthenware plate. The Pollo Ranchero ($9), which is chicken marinated in the house red sauce, was similarly on-point and grilled perfectly.

That first dinner visit, I noticed that the staff numbered only two — one front-of-house server, and one back-of-house cook — and that slowed the service, in some cases disappointingly so. I could see the latter through the window as tickets were handed through and could hear the sizzle of my meat hitting the grill. That sizzle hinted at a fresh-cooked quality I noticed in the meat.

The chicken fajitas were among the few grilled items I did not enjoy. They were not served popping and hissing on a hot skillet, but instead, pale white on a plate, heaped on top of the now-soggy tortillas. No sour cream, pico de gallo, lettuce or tomato.

The Chili Relleno Poblano ($8.50) is all about fresh, honest flavors. The stuffing pouring out of the roasted pepper includes ground beef and a tasty assortment of thickly diced potatoes, bell peppers and onions.

Even so, it’s also obvious from the red sauce atop the pepper that simple can sometimes mean uninspired. That sauce had the consistency of only slightly spiced tomato soup. In the Chicken Enchiladas Verde ($8.50), the house green sauce fares better. The sauce is thick with fresh, tart tomatillo flavor, but without much seasoning.

It’s a shame, certainly, because Mexican restaurants often stake their reputations on the quality of their basic sauces, red and green as well as the house salsa, the latter absent from the menu. Instead of salsa, Las Cazuelas pairs every table’s basket of chips with a bean dip, which while warm, can’t compare with freshly made salsa with a kick. I really felt the absence.

Sometimes it’s not fresh but slow that impresses, and this restaurant’s slow-cooked meats are shredded tenderness.

While not a full-on taqueria, the lunch menu includes value-priced tacos ($1.90), which are available with beans or four meat-filling choices. I ordered three tacos overflowing with tortilla-busting portions of Barbacoa (shredded barbecued beef) topped with onions, lettuce, tomato and whole leaves of cilantro. The meat hardly required chewing to dissolve in my mouth.

Similarly, the Cochinita Pibil Pork, while also available for tacos, was moist and tasty in a huge, two-handed burrito ($7.50). I was disappointed that the sum of the burrito’s ingredients didn’t add up to huge flavor and required doctoring. A nice lime-spiked guacamole and hot sauce came to the flavor rescue.

To see Las Cazuelas at its best, try breakfast. Open at 8 a.m., morning sunshine lights up the narrow restaurant.

Just as the kitchen turns out great, sizzling meats, they can also cook a mean egg. Next time, I’d ask for a few overeasy on top of the Chilaquiles Con Pollo ($8.50), a casserole of crispy tortillas, chicken and green sauce. A little yolk would make that meal imminently crave-able.

And at $5.50, the Breakfast Burrito is a hearty, wallet-friendly way to start the day, and the menu provides several combinations of sauce, meat and egg.

Las Cazuelas has the bones of a great dining experience with friendly service, a comfortable setting and solid renditions of classic Mexican dishes. With a little tweaking to the seasoning and more urgency in the kitchen, it just might get there.

The carne asada plate at Las Cazuelas. Photo by Photo by Kate Jonuska