Ay, caramba! Seriously, if we had a peso for every time someone's proclaimed the next three sentences, in this exact order, we'd be booking our flight to Oaxaca:

1. You can't find authentic Mexican food on this island.

2. I used to live in Los Angeles, San Diego or (fill in the blank).

3. I know good Mexican food.

Well, amigos, you're in luck. Serg's Mexican Kitchen opened in Manoa less than a month ago, and it's an immediate hit, judging from the near-constant lunch and dinner lines. Best news: not one shred of orange cheese in sight. Second best: Tacos are of the Mexico City street variety, soft only, with no hint of ground beef, lettuce, tomato, sour cream or guacamole.

Our plan is to start with our No. 1 favorite roast pork of all time, lard-o-licious carnitas, and work our way in broad strokes across the menu, avoiding the Americanized quesadilla, burrito and enchilada standards that too many plasticized treatments have left us too scarred to face.

We waft in with the Manoa breeze on Day 10. As in, literally. Serg's is in the open-air, converted gas station between Boston's North End Pizza Bakery and Manoa Japanese School, but the lofty pitched roof and low walls separating diners from East Manoa Road make us forget we're sitting where cars used to pull in for fill-ups. In fact, we like it. We like sitting just out of range of traffic anywhere in the world, watching clouds and people drift by, breathing in the promise of fresh, simple food.

We order at the window and wait for our name to be called. "Original roots from Mexico City, and educated in the culinary arts, Chef Sergio Arellano has worked at fine dining restaurants and major hotels in Las Vegas, Nevada," we read on the takeout menu. "He is bringing back to life a slow style of cooking taught to him by his parents. ..."

Viva carnitas! The pork is as we dream about, crispy edges and moist interiors, proper globs of fat here and there, a thin layer of liquid lard winking up from underneath. Carnitas ($9.95) is the only plate that comes with calabazitas, a diced zucchini side topped with tart-sweet mango bits. (Pork and mango? Are we rocking?)

But we so heart carnitas, we know we might go easy on it. We turn to the rice and beans as an overall barometer. The rice is good, we'll leave it at that, not dry, flavorless or plastic. The beans are black, thick as mashed potatoes and sprinkled with white queso fresco. They gain our respect when the aromas of garlic and lard waft up the back of our throat.

On another visit, flautas ($8.95) leapfrog past carnitas when we break into a crispy flour tortilla, fried so delicately we wish for honey to drizzle on top instead of the shredded beef rolled up inside. Pollo a las brazas ($8.95), half a broiled chicken marinated in Gaujillo Orange chile rub, is a crispy-skinned beauty that gifts us with a succulent wing and thigh, but a dry breast.

Another visit, Manoa Valley is warm in the noon sun. Ceviche salad ($9.95) breaks the heat, but in a bland, underseasoned way. Tiny shrimp and fish needing more salt, tang and heat on top of their lettuce and crispy flour shell. (Tip: If you try this, load up on the limes and green salsas.) Our final protein is Mahimahi Veracruz ($9.95), the meaty steak perfectly cooked without going rubbery. The sauce hits two notes — tomatoes and kalamata olives. It's good, but doesn't excite (and we are pretty excitable).

At this point, our co-tasters override our off-the-food-court track and mutiny for Serg's nachos ($6.95). The corn chips groan under the weight of the black bean chili, cheeses, sour cream, guacamole and pico de gallo, but not for long, because the four of us devour everything in the Styrofoam box. On our final visit, we order rajas con queso ($6.95) for the guys painting our house, intending to sneak a taste and deliver the chips topped with soft-cooked poblanos, corn and queso fresco more or less intact. By the time we remember our plan, most of the dish is in our belly.

Can you tell we're excited? Kalamata olives? Poblanos in a creamy cheese sauce? Totally makes up for our worst quesadilla. We save for last the taco-fest: a Styrofoam box of chorizo, carnitas, grilled chicken, carne asada and al pastor soft tacos (each $2.75 and gone in four to five bites; we've left out the chile verde taco), plus all five salsas on the side, and serious lime wedges. Tortillas are moist and corny, each holding a small amount of meat, diced red onion and cilantro — and that's it. Salsas fly in so many directions, we forget what goes best with what. (Sorry, but we know that garlic-infused arbol totally rules.) Our personal top three are carnitas (juicy and rocking with various salsas), carne asada (dry, but flavorful) and chorizo (bursting with salty-smoky flavor).

One final note: Tostada de platano ($4.95), a deep-fried tortilla topped with molten bananas, vanilla ice cream, cinnamon and caramel. So what if it's not from south of the border? Get it.

So is this like Mexico, or what? Honestly, though, that's not the real question, is it? The question is whether Serg's offers good Mexican food. Si, amigos.