Our latest edition of Quick Bites brings us to a theme park-esque taco spot on 8th Avenue.

THE VIBE
It feels like a lot of energy and money went into making Temerario—in English: "daredevil"—look all edgy and cool.

Opened a couple of weeks ago by the rapidly expanding Jorge Guzman Hospitality Group, which also owns Black Ant, Ofrenda, and Gardenia, this Mexican street food spot features large murals by street artists Dasic Fernandez (his masked tough-guys are on the exterior wall along 20th Street) and Danielle Mastrion (with two pieces inside, including a lucha libre villain by the stairs to the bathroom).

The base of the bar is a concrete block, the walls raw brick, and a cage-like lighting fixture hangs from the high, faux pressed-tin ceiling, which is painted purple. The seating options are mostly either "reclaimed" or "industrial". Rounding out the decor is a neon tattoo—"Dear Carnal", it says—that, if you're sitting beneath its glow, will make your Snaps look interestingly candy-colored.

It's like an abandoned warehouse party! But safe, studied, and designed to lure in a younger drinking crowd (with a taste for "artisanal agave spirits") and packs of weekend warriors seeking a wild time in the city. I felt like such a sucker sitting here (uh, twice), and my only chance at saving face in such theme park surroundings would be a table filled with exciting food.

THE BITES
Sadly, eating at Temerario is, if anything, more depressing than simply being at Temerario. I tried eight items from all over the menu, and can't really recommend anything even as a safety.

The pricey Guacamole tastes only of raw onion, and comes with a half dozen chips (though you are welcome to request more). Elote Fries may sound like a cute idea—it's baby corn, battered!—but there's not even a hint of anything other than "deep fried food" going on here. And don't get fooled by the word "chicharrón" (and the lack of the word "vegan") in the menu's description of the Sabritones: these are five, flavorless, puffed wheat crackers, with nary a pig skin in sight.

While we're on the subject of misleading menu items, what do you picture when you read "Pollo Enchilado"? Even if you caught that this is not a pollo enchiladA (a mistake for which you'd be forgiven after a cocktail or two), you still might expect something like the classic Cuban spicy stew... and that's IF your server explained that the copy under the dish on the menu is actually describing a completely different dish. "I can't believe they haven't fixed that yet," she might say. Anyway, what you actually get with your order here is a half rotisserie chicken, timidly seasoned and inedibly dry, with a side of limp green beans and a handful of potatoes boiled to oblivion. Easily the saddest plate of food I've been served this year. (Update: Chef Mario Hernandez has explained to us that "'Enchilado' refers to the marinade used to prepare the chicken.")

Meanwhile, the impressive-looking Temerario Burger might make for a decent Instagram, but the black "chili ash" brioche bun was stale, the short rib patty, a "manzano cream sauce," and "beer glaze" all just a heavy, gloppy mess, no ingredient readily discernible from any other.

The "street-style tacos" we tried were also all bad. The blah, straightforward Fish Tacos only prompted a longing for the summer, and Saturday lunches at Rockaway Beach. The marinated pork in the Taco Arabe-Poblano got completely swallowed up by the lifeless za'atar bread. And the Quesadillas are made with thick, plantain tortillas, which is a tough trick to pull off—burnt plantain tends to overwhelm everything near it—and one which they do not succeed.

THE VERDICT
If Temerario was on your list of new places to try, take it off. The Guzman Group PR push and the undeniable appeal of Mexican street food has attracted some crowds, and that Dasic mural is pretty dope, but you'd be better off eating almost literally anywhere else in the neighborhood than here.

Temarario is located at 198 8th Avenue at the corner of 20th Street. (212-645-2100; temerarionyc.com)