Iron Cactus, the glass-framed Mexican restaurant downtown, is
like the new girl who arrives an innocent and is ravaged by
every cad in town. Come on, you were one of them. You leered
down the circular stairwell, guzzled your margarita, and spit
over the railing of the patio.  But once the pack moved on, this
Austin transplant dusted itself off and got stronger. The food
got tighter, as did the service. It’s not all combo plates;
there are upscale lobster tacos and ahi tuna ceviche. Queso,
lusciously creamy, had a tang that said “real cheddar”; when it
cooled, it did not harden into orange plastic. Chips came with
two salsas, and margarita martinis were served with a shaker
from which you could pour your drink yourself (bliss for control
freaks). It is not without flaws. Mixed grill with fajita beef
and chicken, sausage, and shrimp made a good argument for solo
shrimp, as the meats were dry and overdone. And the guacamole
was greasy. But rice and beans, the telltale staples, impressed.
The rice came flecked wi