After we came home, I looked up reviews for Poblanos Mexican Grill. One of them said “you’re an idiot if you eat here.” Well, an idiot if you eat there more than once. I liked the pretty tile work all over the restaurant. I liked the waiter who looked a little like Peter Frampton. If we’d been served food, I might have liked it, but I don’t believe what we had qualifies.
He had a vegetarian style burrito. He found it edible. The sauce was this bizarre, salty, mushroom gravy that would be more at home on a trailer-park Thanksgiving table than in a Mexican restaurant. The tortilla was stuffed with a variety of vegetables, but oddly, neither beans nor rice were present, not even as a side.
I had the Enchiladas Suprema, which was one each of their enchilada offerings. One was filled with plain melted cheddar, the second with canned refried beans, the third with barely seasoned taco meat, and the fourth with dry chicken. There was no enchilada sauce, just a dollop of sour cream and a tiny bit of canned tomatoes on the top, so the entire dish was dry and there was nothing to hide how unappetizing the enchiladas were.
I have no idea why we dared order dessert. My rationalization was that we had a weird sopapilla at another local restaurant, and I wanted to see if it was a Florida thing. Well, this sopapilla was certainly not the same as the other place. Nor was it anything I would identify as a sopapilla. There was a fried tortilla with wedges of ice cream on top. There was plain cinnamon (no sugar) dumped on some bits of the tortilla. The whole thing was drizzled with what tasted like Hershey’s syrup and–get this–squeeze butter. Go have some ice cream with butter and tell me if you like it. I’ll wait.
Wasn’t very good, was it?
So yes, Poblanos: you’re an idiot if you eat here.