Mojave

Southwestern style had its moment in the ’90s, but interest in the cuisine—a mishmash of South American and New Mexican culinary traditions—has largely waned. Stuccoed, arch-ceilinged Mojave does not signal a revival. Our lackluster meal included soggy chipotle chicken wings with a blue-cheese sauce so thin it couldn’t coat a celery stalk, and Santa Fe shepherd’s pie—macaroni in a Velveeta-like sheath of Monterey Jack over ground beef. Steak fajitas were better but don’t alone merit the trip to Astoria. Nothing to see here, folks: Better mosey on through.