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| - Aw hell, I thought I was in for a Mexican treat prior to the Motley Crue concert at First Niagara when I saw the rustic, "authentic" decor and was greeted by our humble, gracious, classy, and thoroughly attentive server. I was even more hopeful when that mortar full of chunky, ideally lemon-tinged guacamole came out along with a batch of oily, brittle tortilla chips.
The salsa, which I all but totally ignored, tasted to have originated from a economy-sized aluminum can pulled from a Big Lots shelf. Lifeless, it merely smacked of watery Ragu and a packet of salad seasoning.
My burrito, properly fat, was stuffed with ground beef that apparently was "filled out" by ground turkey. I've had ground turkey. I know how grainy it can be. I know its flavor. It isn't nauseating by any means, but damn it...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvyc-CiLZxQ
Why I ordered churros for dessert, I can't explain. Perhaps I thought that maybe there was a chance they'd be made on the premises, but they were too uniform, too pristine, too cryogenic. I kept wondering which convenience store I could get them from, that apple filling recalling The Clown or Tiny Deborah In The Cellophane Dress.
Each dish was plated gorgeously, however.
Many of these Mexican places keep popping up in the suburbs of Western Pennsylvania of late, and I can't help but suspect that they are all part of a chain that's trying to hide the fact that it is a many-tentacled chain. The menus are the same. The food's the same. Only the names differ.
Strange. Unsatisfying. Next!
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