I'm pretty sure I've figured the conundrum of My Florist out, because it is nothing if not a challenge to logical reasoning everywhere.
See if you agree...
People who rave about it - because you know they're out there, we've all heard them - live in places like Scottsdale, or Tempe, or Gilbert, or Mesa, or Peoria or CHANDLER. And they're woman of a certain age demographic. And they wear floral prints and drive a Lexus and have above average but spiritually empty occupations. They have a couple of kids who excel in school and play sports. For these wonderful women who I don't understand on any level, it's home. It's a place to go and eat the food they're supposed to be eating and drink the iced teas they're supposed to be drinking and talk about their lives and enjoy each other.
One recommendation. I hate hate hate valet parking. I HATE it so much. Once they broke my convertible top and additionally couldn't figure out how to drive my Prius. I won't turn over my keys to them. I park across the street. I do what I have to do. Get rid of it. Die die die...
So anyway, the food is blander than bland. The servers are friendly enough but it's always been slow in my experience. I just don't get it other than it fits exactly one demographic and they drag the rest of us there. I'm sorry if I've offended you with this analysis. But if the shoe fits.