In Medieval times, Lorain County was but a humble fiefdom of roughly hewn mud shacks and unyielding cornfields. The land was held by a cruel and cunning Lord Kerr, whose only remaining legacy is the keg store at the North end of Route 58. He lived alone in a gray stone castle on the windswept banks of Lake Erie, and stocked the moat around his mysterious lair with every species of diabolical fish. When the Lord died and left no heir, an enterprising vassal from the fiefdom of Lorain took over the Lord’s castle and turned it into a Mexican restaurant. He christened the dining room with a bottle of mead and henceforth the castle was known as El Castillo Grande.

Yes indeed Lords and Ladies, El Castillo Grande is a Northeastern Ohio Mexican restaurant that pretty much embodies the idea of “getting loose with the style.” The moat’s been drained (but it’s still there), the coat of arms has been replaced by person-sized inflatable bottles of Corona, and in every corner of the dining room a girls’ night out is in full swing. From your first glance of its painful roadside conspicuousness to your last sip of the melted ice at the bottom of your margarita, something inside of you will have its eyebrow raised.

On Cinco de Mayo I drove up 58 to Erie’s misty shores with a Honda Civic’s worth of seniors on the verge of going buckwild. Destination: El Castillo Grande, because who can pass up the opportunity for an ambiance that has unflinchingly undergone the awkward transition from Medieval to Mexican? Apparently no one, because the place was packed when we showed up, even though contrary to what we had hoped, there weren’t any five-for-five Cinco de Mayo drink specials.

My buckwild colleagues and I are fairly well-acquainted with the Mexican food offerings in Lorain County, so our opinions are—to a degree—comparative. The pre-meal chips and salsa were great—always a hopeful prophesy. The salsa was homemade and not too watery, and the chips were thick with visible cornmeal bits that added incommensurate texture. Cheese dip is always a safe bet because its cheapness is only surpassed by the efficacy with which it fills you up. For $2.95 you get a goodly bowl of liquefied white cheese with bits of hot pepper suspended at regular intervals.

And now we come to the crux of the column, where the margaritas are brought to the table. The thing is that when we ordered a pitcher, it arrived full along with pre-filled glasses. I will not do the math for you because it will betray the degree to which we were counting, but the bottom line is that one pitcher rendered a table of five more than a little reluctant to pay the tab and go on back to College. (But don’t worry—the driver was a paragon of sobriety.)

Don’t order a la carte at El Castillo Grande; the best deals are the dinner platters, which are massive and delicious in a way that is utterly predictable but not at all lacking in delightfulness. Burritos Castillos are filled with fajita-style sautéed onions, peppers and meat, and topped with a massive heap of guacamole, sour cream and pico de gallo. It’s served with a separate plate of refried beans and rice—for $8.99 it was one of the most expensive items on the menu, but given the quantity it was also one of the best deals.

The chiles poblano look better on paper than they do on their monolithic slab of a plate, but they were impressively spicy and the crisp fried egg hidden between the poblano peppers and the ranchero sauce was a fresh surprise. Equally fresh tasting was the chicken chimichanga, again displaying that Northeast Ohio finesse of loading on the toppings to the point where the main dish becomes an afterthought.

The food at El Castillo Grande doesn’t really merit much commentary because it’s fairly consistent in its ability to satisfy without overly impressing. Where you are going to get hung up is with the atmosphere, which is so displaced from itself, and so very lacking in intimacy (El Castillo Grande seats a lot of people) that it’s easy to forget that you’re accountable for your actions. Halfway through the meal, one member of our table declared that this was the kind of place from which he could easily imagine being kicked out. Everyone nodded gravely; yes, we too could have easily busted out of our seats in fits of disoriented celebration at any moment.