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| - 111 degrees. It's One Hundred and Eleven Effing Degrees, and you're in Scottsdale, Arizona, for a meeting.
It's 111 freaking degrees and you want a little heat in your food but also something refreshing and tasty and a little southwesty.
You are thinking to yourself, Arizona, your first time, they must have some good southwestern, Tex-Mexy type stuff, right? You've heard they have all sorts of chi-chi (but not Chi Chi's) little restaurants down here to feed and entertain the people who live here in the 111 degree heat with all that money to burn off before they die, right? Look at all the fancy landscaping and toney zoning controls that keep everything adobe and tasteful; the food MUST be good, right? They probably zone for that, too, right?
Well, this is basically Chevy's with money and a little attitude. It's a Chevy's that's moved to Scottsdale after winning the lottery. It's enchilada combinations with your beans, your rice, your enchiladas, and yes, all the ingredients are fresh, but it's still just a fancy Chevy's. It's not like there's a chef back there expressing himself. What's back there is a Corporation that borrowed the Chevy's concept, tarted it up, slapped it into a faux Mayan ruins via Spanish Colonial burbling fountain super duper atmosphere building, jacked some prices, and made sure there was plenty of tequila behind the bar.
Mind you, I didn't have a Margarita. It was before the meeting. If we had stopped after the meeting in the 111 degree heat, after I was all sweaty and relaxed having kicked meeting ass, and I'd ordered a really good Margarita, it's entirely possible I would be singing this place up and down the 202. It's the Margarita factory, after all. Which is weird--why would I want a factory-fresh Margarita? So maybe I wouldn't be singing it's praises.
But really, it's just a Chevy's with a private school diploma. You could do worse, but I also think maybe you could do better.
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