I'm still a bit speechless. I feel betrayed by the allure of the beautiful, secluded garden that I have longingly peeked into for months while slowly pushing my son's stroller past. I imagined the perfectly golden margarita that would make even Pancho Villa's toes curl, the scent of fresh cilantro and lime, the crisp and piping hot corn chips that surely a place like this would provide when seated.
Perhaps my expectations were too high. What was I thinking?
Instead I should have limited my daydreams to that of a luke warm, 3/4 full, ice tea glass containing a very dull margarita mix and 2 ice cubes. I should not have expected that when I ordered the Cadillac Margarita clearly outlined on the menu, the promised side of Grand Marnier would actually arrive. What I should have expected was to see the manager, the barman, and the waiter all hunkered over the drinks menu for several minutes in obvious confusion trying to decifer my cocktail order as if I asked for something unusual.
I'm more forgiving when it comes to food. Sometimes certain food items can't be imported and recipes vary but the chile relleno I ordered was so far off the mark it was laughable. And for some reason it came with a side of corn tortillas. It was limp, mushy, made with a red bell pepper and completely devoid of flavor although the menu warned of a two chili pepper spiciness!
My husband and I just looked around at the beautiful setting and sighed. How can something with so much potential be so poorly executed?
How could they not know their own menu items? Where was the atmosphere?
The only thing Mexican about Zapatas is the image on the front of the building and now I have my suspicions of him too.