Ruins in Deep Ellum is a place that doesn’t stray far from its purpose: tacos, cocktails, and a space to disappear into for a while. The menu centers on tacos rooted in Mexican tradition but twisted just enough to keep things interesting. There’s no attempt here to be a pan-Latin fusion spot or a comfort-food haven—Ruins keeps its offerings tight, deliberate, and built for flavor.
The tacos lean into regional styles and house creativity. You might find cochinita pibil—slow-roasted pork shoulder marinated in citrus and achiote—or chorizo verde with a sharp, herbal edge that cuts through the fat. Their al pastor comes off the trompo, proper and smoky, with charred pineapple that actually matters. Tacos here don’t just pile on ingredients; they’re assembled with care, served on corn tortillas that hold up, and presented with a few house salsas that change depending on what’s fresh and in season. Portions are generous but not overwhelming—built for pairing and sharing, not for show.
Ruins doesn’t just stop at tacos—their tortas and tortillazos bring serious weight to the menu. The El Borracho piles rich, slow-cooked wild boar carnitas onto a toasted roll, then bathes the whole thing in a fiery chile de árbol sauce that delivers a slow-building burn. For something crispier, the Chichicuilote Frito sandwiches golden fried chicken with a generous layer of avocado crema, giving it both crunch and cool.
Elsewhere, the kitchen leans into earthy flavors with fried nopales served alongside a deep, house-made mole, while the fideo seco offers a savory, noodle-based comfort that’s rarely seen on Dallas menus. And if you’re looking to share—or just feeling ambitious—the tlayuda brings crunch, smoke, and spice in a single, oversized dish. This isn’t snack bar fare. It’s bold, regional cooking with streetwise attitude, perfect for soaking up a cocktail or closing out the night.
Behind the bar, the cocktail menu shows range without overreaching. Mezcal and tequila naturally dominate, but you’ll find clever flourishes—infusions, house syrups, and spiced rims—that push familiar drinks into new territory. The margaritas are tight and balanced, whether you go classic or opt for seasonal variants like mango-chile or hibiscus. There’s also a curated selection of neat pours for the agave-minded, with mezcals ranging from smoky Espadín to funkier, wild-harvested varietals. It’s clear the bar was built by people who drink with curiosity, not just volume.
Then there’s The Limbo Room, the venue behind the main space. It’s part cocktail lounge, part music room, often dark and low-slung, with a vibe that shifts depending on the night. Some evenings it hosts live cumbia or punk; others it becomes a late-night hangout with DJs and deep pours. It’s intimate, slightly chaotic, and completely unlike anything else in Deep Ellum—a little world inside a world.
