Eat in on the ground floor of Two Rivers Market, take it with you, or have it brought to you. The kitchen runs 10:30 in the morning to 9 at night, every day of the week.
Every day, 10:30 AM to 9 PM. Monday through Sunday. No closed day.
250 Broadalbin St SW, Albany, OR 97321. Ground floor of Two Rivers Market.
(541) 812-1311 Eat in, take out, or delivery.
Your Google listing is in good shape and that is worth saying first. Your hours are right, your newest photo is twelve days old, and Google is not asking strangers to fill anything in for you. What follows is not about neglect. It is about the gaps between two parts that both work.
Start with the Menu button on your own listing. It does not open your menu. It opens a page on places.singleplatform.com that somebody else set up, carrying your name, a short version of your menu, a suite number that is not yours, and prices to the cent that you never set. You did not put it there and you cannot edit it. It is the first thing a hungry person taps.
Tacos, burritos, chimichangas, quesadillas, nachos and the kids plates, priced as printed on the January 2026 menu.
Your choice of meat Grilled chicken (pollo asado) · Marinated chicken (pollo adobado) · Shredded chicken (pollo deshebrado) · Beef steak (carne asada) · Ground beef (carne molida) · BBQ pork (al pastor) · Shredded pork (carnitas) · Green chile pork (chile verde) · Sausage (chorizo). Lengua, cabeza and shrimp carry an extra charge.
Jarritos $3.30 · Mexican Coke $3.30 · aguas frescas, jamaica and horchata, $4.15 with a second refill free. Beer and margaritas at the table. The first two baskets of chips are on the house.
This block is the whole argument, so it is worth two minutes. Your menu is published on your website as a single PDF, eight pages and thirteen megabytes. Somebody sitting in your parking lot on a phone signal has to pull down thirteen megabytes before they find out what you serve, and a good number of them give up before it finishes.
It is worse than slow, and this part surprised me. That file contains no text at all. It is eight photographs of a printed menu with a PDF wrapper around them, and Adobe’s own stamp inside the file says so: the software that produced it is named an image conversion plug-in. There is not one letter in it a computer can read. Google cannot index a single dish you make. A customer cannot copy a dish name to send to a friend, and somebody using a screen reader gets silence. Whoever built that page handed you a picture and called it a menu. You would have no way of knowing that by looking at it, because on a big screen it looks fine.
Everything above is the same information as ordinary web text. It appears instantly, it works on any phone, and every dish and every price on it can be searched for and copied.
Two things you need to check before this goes anywhere near live. First, the prices. They are read off your own menu, item by item, and not one of them is a guess or a rounding, but the file is dated January 2026 and it is now July. If you have repriced since then, tell me and I change them. Second, this is six of your seventeen sections: tacos, burritos, chimichangas, quesadillas, nachos and the kids plates. Held back for now are special meats, fajitas, Mexican specialties, seafood, combinations, Mexican breakfast, caldos y ensaladas, American dishes, sides, desserts and beverages. I stopped there deliberately rather than fill the page, so you could see the shape of it before committing. All eleven are transcribed and ready to drop in the moment you say so.
“No wait time and they have a wide selection of options of food on their menu.”
“We’ve made this place a regular choice for a cheap sit down Mexican meal.”
“Hands down some of the best Mexican food in town with kind and friendly staff.”
580 reviews is the largest thing you own, and right now all of it sits on Google rather than anywhere you control. The three lines above are your own customers’ words, quoted exactly as they appear on your listing, with no names attached to them. Nothing on this page is a review I wrote.
Two things I noticed while I was reading them. Of every review I could open, not one carries a reply from you. And four of the five restaurants Google shows beside you on your own listing carry a higher star rating, three of them on more reviews than you have. That is not a comment on your food. It is a count of how many conversations are happening in public, and you have 580 sitting there that you have not joined yet.
Those frames are empty on purpose, and they will stay empty until you hand over photographs. There is a reason I did not lift any from your listing: as far as I can tell every photo on it was taken by a customer, which makes it their picture and not yours to publish. A stock picture of somebody else’s taco would be a strange thing to put on your page when the actual problem is a stranger publishing your food wrong.
Five pictures off your own phone fill this page. The last one matters most and costs you thirty seconds: the door, from the sidewalk, with enough of Two Rivers Market in the shot that somebody who has never been here knows which entrance to walk through.
250 Broadalbin St SW, Albany, OR 97321. Ground floor of Two Rivers Market.
Two smaller ones, and then I am done.
Google has your phone number. Your own website does not print one anywhere on it. Somebody who lands there wanting to order food has nothing to tap.
And the website field on your Google listing points at taqueriadosarbolitos.com, which forwards to alonzotaqueria.com. It works today. It works because a forward is sitting in the middle of it, and a forward is one lapsed renewal away from not being there. The address in that field should be the one you actually use.