Monday, August 25, 2014

Qdoba Mexican Grill

180 Gravois Bluffs Cir
Fenton, Mo.

'Qdoba' is Spanish for . . . Well, actually it's not Spanish, Mexican, Aztec, Latin, or Dutch for anything. It's one of those made up words that sounds like it means something but is actually the result of a 'branding' exercise to come up with a name that has no meaning in any language. That's just in case a company eventually goes global and finds out that their carefully and reasonably crafted English name translates in Malaysia or Portugal to something like 'puny man parts'.
Qdoba is wholly owned by another food franchise heavy hitter, Jack in the Box.
The food is classified as 'Fresh Mex' to differentiate itself from Taco Bell where all the ingredients are made of decades old space age polymers and squeezed from a tube.
The Place:
This was my choice, for all the wrong reasons.
I needed some new spiral notebooks, of a specific size and thickness. None of the places I usually go to shop at, by that I mean Walmart, carried them. I was going to need an office supply store. I recalled that Gravois Bluffs, the enormous and not too distant shopping center in Fenton had one. The Bluffs also hosts a dozen or more eateries from Subway to Olive Garden, so I told the family they needed to pick one of those for our weekend excursion. Once again, they wouldn't decide, so I looked up the roster and chose the only one we'd never been to. Qdoba.
We were not craving Mexican, in fact we'd had Mexican, real Mexican, the week before.
I had the family scan the online menu ahead of time so they would not embarrass me when we got there. I knew that the Q was counter-order, like a fast food chain, with many, many options, like at subway.
This sort of thing is a lot of pressure for a family of indecisive introverts. I suggested we try to order different things and share the variety.
The place was bigger than it looked, a high open ceiling, plenty of open floor space.
The counter was way in the back.
The Food:
Nachos
We lined up, fortunately there were some people in front of us. We each tried to decipher the options. Finally Angel stepped up and ordered nachos. We noted that the place worked like Subway. Choices, choices, choices. The man serving our account seemed to have a mastery of the task. He knew all the options and delivered them as multiple choice, one at a time. Angel asked for the grilled chicken with guacamole and sour cream. Adam stepped up and settled for a burrito with chicken and pinto beans. I panicked and asked for two tacos and a bowl of their signature gumbo. One soft taco, one crispy, chicken on one, steak on the other, cheese and sour cream all around. The gumbo is made from 'taco soup' and can
Burrito
be topped just like the other items. I added brown beans and steak, sour cream and corn. The server deftly processed the three diverse orders simultaneously without a mistake. The food came together quickly, Angel settled up and took possession of the three cups. She passed them out and pointed to the drink dispenser. Adam groaned, it was a one spigot electronic device, he hates those. Too many choices, too many buttons, one person at a time. He got his soda, Angel tasted the tea and made a sour face. "Bitter." she said, I think referring to the tea. I decided to have something else rather than write up yet another fast food chain for their lousy tea. So I braved the machine and took on some ginger ale. I don't drink soda pop very often, but when I do it's usually the tart, sweet, ale of the ginger.
We found a table, there were plenty available. The decor was stainless steel tables and nice wooden chairs.
Of course the table kind of made it seem like we were eating off of medical equipment. They clean up easily though, I imagine.
I'd grabbed a knife, fork and spoon, a straw and some napkins. Angel and Adam forgot napkins so I shared. I'm big hearted like that.
Gumbo + 2 tacos
I tasted some fallen meat fragments from  my basket. The steak and chicken were both fantastic! Grilled slowly, still moist and tender. The tortillas were great as well, fresh, thin, quite unlike the recycled phone books you get at Taco Bell. The taco ingredients were sizable chunks and fell freely since the Q doesn't use 'food as paste' like that other, horrible place. The tastes were all bright and indeed fresh. Angel and I decided that this must be Cali-Mex, since it seemed like the sort of thing a Californian would serve up (Qdoba is actually from Colorado, which is pretty much like California but with snow and thin, instead of chunky, sepia toned air.)
My gumbo was kind of disappointing. After a few bites, the earthy spices in the soup base drowned out the tastes of the individual ingredients. A stew/gumbo base should have flavor, but not too strong. Like this it was simply overpowering the freshness of the other stuff. There was also the temperature problem. I had noticed the finely shredded cheese topping was not melting. The gumbo was, at best, tepid, like it had been setting on the table for twenty minutes. I don't like 'cold' soups and stews. I only managed a few bites.
Angel liked just about everything about her nachos. The fresh, crispy, salty chips, even the guacamole. I don't get guac. For as green as it is it seems to me that it should have a distinct, if not strong taste. I don't dislike the taste, but for me it doesn't bring much to the party. The poop-like texture doesn't help either.
Adam was okay with his burrito, though he said it was a single note meal and he'd probably order something else should he ever go back.
Summary:
Overall we were quite pleased. We liked the idea, fresher, better quality 'fast' food at a reasonable price (under $30 for us). It's hardly an authentic Mexican restaurant like Coyol or Los Portales, it is definitely more like a Subway than an Applebees. Counter ordering, plastic forks, paper cups, self serve drinks. It is really nothing like Taco Bell since the Q uses actual, recognizable ingredients with actual nutritional value.
The gumbo was cold, that can be fixed. The soup base was not to my tastes, but the other items were. I loved the little tacos and now have a better idea of the kind(s) I would order next time. Yes, there will probably be a next time.
The place was clean, modern, spacious and busy. The crew worked efficiently and quickly.
I would advise new customers to plan ahead, there are many, many decisions to make for every offering. We did this and were able to immediately dismiss mangoes and black beans, things none of us care for. We'd also learned about the sweet corn salsa, which I highly recommend.
Qdoba is a refreshing alternative to that terrible, awful, disgusting Taco place, you know the one.




Qdoba Mexican Grill on Urbanspoon

Monday, August 18, 2014

Coyol

Mexican Bar and Grill
12967 State Rt 21
Desoto, Mo.
On Facebook


 Angel's choice.
If we wanted to go out for Mexican and we weren't burdened with this heavy responsibility of a fickle and demanding fan base, we'd just go to one of our favorite Mexican places, that happens to also be the nearest restaurant to our house, Los Portales in Hillsboro.
But for you, our fans, we traveled a few more miles down the road.
The Place:
We'd been here before, a while back, we think we heard that it had changed owners since then.
It's located at a busy intersection on the North side of Desoto. If you see a Walgreens and a KFC you're in the right place.
Inside, the whole place was highly painted and decorated. Even the tables have bright, colorful Mexican themed folk art. You enter through the tasteful bar, dining, the non-smoking dining is to the right. We were greeted and seated by a pair of Caucasians, which was different than the last time, as we recalled. Nothing wrong with that, just an observation. I did notice  that the kitchen was staffed Hispanic. That's where the only music I detected was emanating from. Nice, passionate corridos. 
We took a table near the back. Along came our server with menus and asking about drinks. "Unsweetened tea, no sugar." I spoke. Yeah, it confused him at first, just as I hoped. Angel said she wanted the same, Adam ordered Coke/Pepsi. They serve Coke.
We each scanned the menus, very similar to Los Portales.
The place started filling up. There seemed to be lots and lots of big green margaritas being served.



The Food:
 They had specials and combos, even hamburgers. All the stuff a decent Mexican place should serve. Our server brought us our drinks, a basket of chips and a carafe of salsa. The salsa was so thick that we had to use an extra straw to coerce it out into the small bowls.
I saw that they had a chimichanga plate, though it didn't seem to come with rice.
Angel said she wanted the Steak and shrimp plate she'd had before, but it came with stuff she didn't want, namely beans and rice. Problem solved.
We ordered, the chimichanga plate for me, Angel asked for her Steak Jalisco, named for a coastal state in Mexico, Adam asked for 'every meat' nachos, no tomato, no guac.
"I've been wanting good nachos for a while now." He told us. His mom pointed at the basket in front of him. "Those are just chips." He answered dismissively.
"Oh." She seemed to think it was a distinction without a difference. If I'd wanted a fight I would have told her that nacho chips and salsa are to Nachos what Anheuser Busch products are to good beer.*
We munched at our chips, cleaned the basket. I watched the families come in and fill the tables. The moms seemed to really, really like the margaritas.
I sipped my tea as well, it wasn't too bad.
Steak Jalisco
The food arrived shortly. Angel's steak was still sizzling. The lady sat my plate down and cautioned me that it was "potentially hot".
I needed to take a picture of it but it was pointed the wrong way. So like the idiot I am, I  turned it.
"Ouch, ooch!"
"Was it potentially hot?" Adam asked, smart-aleck-ly.   
The plate was indeed more than potentially hot, it was 'actually' hot. But the stuff on it looked good for a burrito platter. It's just too bad I didn't ask for a burrito, I asked for a
Chimichangas
chimichanga. "Two flour tortillas, deep fried. . ." was the menu description. That's what I expected, wanted, that is not what I was looking at. It appeared that there had been some attempt to fry them, but not for very long, at all. They were not crispy, they were flaccid, like a non-deep fried tortilla, you know, a burrito. I could have said something, but I didn't, this would do. So I carved it up, swirled it in to the rice, beans and . . . what's that? Rice and beans? That's right, though the menu didn't mention rice for this plate, there it was. I certainly wasn't going to complain. Then Angel's rice and refried beans arrived
'Everything' Nachos
on a separate plate from her steak and shrimp.

Adam's plate looked a bit pale.  No tomatoes to offset the pale green, brown and beige items. 
Angel generously stuck one of her shrimps on my plate. It was delicious! Grilled, topped with a cheesy sauce and having absorbed some steak juices. Mmmmm.
The chicken in my chimichanga was spiced a little, a
Spare rice and beans.
very little and by itself a bit dry and chewy. It needed lots of the cheese sauce, beans and rice to moisten it up. Fortunately I had spare rice and beans, Angel's.

The beans and rice were good, not spectacular. The soft tortilla was disappointing, It could have used some crunch.
Adam was quite content with his nachos, they went pretty quick. Angel was more than pleased with her plate. She didn't use the foil wrapped tortillas, she had the steak and shrimp commando-style. It was a pretty thin ribeye, but it was moist, tender and tasty.
Summary:
I was a little disappointed with my plate, the tortilla, the dry-ish chicken, the lack of 'punch' of any of the flavors. Angel and Adam though were quite pleased with their choices though. Mine wasn't really bad, it just wasn't anything special.
The service was quite good, attentive and quick, even though our server tended to mumble a bit, or maybe I'm just a little hard of hearing. The price was reasonable, thirty eight bucks, a little more than we might pay for similar fare at Los Portales, but not out of whack. Coyol was quite busy, so apparently pretty popular, maybe they make a killer Margarita. Overall it was a pretty good meal. I still prefer Los Portales, but the food is mostly just as good. They really should line the menu descriptions up with the actual offerings a little better though.





* I'm just kidding. I used to work at AB and have several friends/fans there still. If AB beers weren't any good, they'd not be one of the biggest beer makers in the world. . . would they?  


Coyol Mexican Grill on Urbanspoon

























Monday, August 11, 2014

Hibachi Buffet

331 North Creek Drive
Festus, Mo


My daughter, Leslye,  was in town, along with her brood of three, Ashton 15, Caprice, 12 and Kinley, 2.
I saw my daughter last a year ago, she flew in for my father's funeral. The kids though, I hadn't seen in several years. We'd tried, we'd planned, but one thing after another, life, reality, just  kept it form happening. Seattle's  a long and expensive trek, no matter how you do it.
Rather than try to figure out in advance what groceries to have on hand and what meals to plan for kids of that age range, we decided that we'd keep small meal and snack stuff at the house and have our dinners out. That way they could figure it out for themselves.
And what better place for diverse choices than a Chinese Buffet?
The Place:
The Hibachi buffet in Festus just opened
a few months back. We went shortly after it opened and it fared pretty well. So this would work as a followup, a review now that the place has had time to settle into its stride.
There's been a bit of Hibachi-hate in the local internet discussions, I found little of actual substance or detail in those remarks, but kept my nose up just in case.
Word had spread that the Springfield, Mo. Hibachi, not owned or operated by the same people though similar in almost every way, had been shut down for a few days by that city's health inspectors.
It happens. Back when I lived in Sprangburg my favorite Chinese places occasionally got shut down, not really that big of a deal. The inspectors find something, wrong, they close for a few days, fix the problem, then open back up. This sort of thing, especially considering the often relatively minor infractions, should not alarm any but the most squeamish of diners.
GM recalls a half billion autos, but people keep buying the things, right? (said the man who recently got rid of his Chevy coupe in favor of a small German sedan.)
The Festus location had not been shut down since it opened, but still the underworld whispered of misdeeds.
The place used to be a Ryan's American buffet and not a very good one. Since the Hibachi folks redecorated it, it looks cleaner and more up to date than it did at Ryan's peak.
It is big, and busy.
I rode with my daughter, who recently got rid of her Japanese import in favor of a newer Japanese import. It still scares me to ride in a car that she's driving, even though she's been driving for many years and in fact had driven in from Seattle. Some irrational father-fears just never go away.
Adam and Ashton rode with Angel in her big, fully operational, non-recalled Chevy SUV. It did not explode, all its pieces and parts stayed in place.
The place was busy, but only about half. No waiting.
Leslye was immediately impressed by the size of the buffet lines. She's accustomed to more modest buffets as are more typical in her home area as opposed to the giant feeding troughs favored here in the Midwest.
We were shown to a large table and we rattled off our drink orders. The kids wanted pop, the adults ordered tea. Angel asked for sweet tea, I asked for "Unsweet tea, no sugar." which interestingly enough, baffled the server. It was like I'd given her a math problem. I had to repeat it. I enjoyed this so much I used the line again at a restaurant a couple of days later. (Sorry Steak and Shake!)
Sometimes I amuse myself.

The Food:
The kids knew their way around a buffet, the size of the lines did not deter them, especially Caprice. She found all the sugar coated pastries in a hurry. That and frog legs.
Yeah, a city girl wanted to try frog legs. Bold move, I don't even like the things, but I'd challenged her earlier. She's proud, precocious and stubborn enough to not back out of a challenge.
I decided to go through the Mongolian line. Noodles and veggies and a little meat, one egg and teriyaki sauce please.
I watched as the grill maestro deftly scooted, chopped and flipped the orders. I like this interactive theater. I even stuffed a single or two into the tip jar. It was either that or jump up and down clapping, which didn't seem to match my otherwise sober, stoic and macho persona.
I was the last one back to the table, which already looked like a small twister had blown through. I tend to forget how messy kids can be.
Kinley was picking at sticky fists full of food, Ashton, much like his uncle Adam, smart, head down, serious and tended toward more standard, dare I say bland, offerings. Caprice was all over the map. High energy, very chatty, engaging and funny, she danced through several plates of stuff. Five feet tall, about forty pounds soaking wet, it didn't seem to matter that her plates carried virtually nothing with any positive nutritional value.
"It tastes like chicken!" she said of the frog legs."
"They've got two dozen different chicken offerings here, if you wanted to eat something that tasted like chicken, why would you get something that isn't chicken but tastes exactly like it?" I asked. She didn't answer, she just gave me a funny look. That happened a lot over the four days they were with us.
My Mongolian was excellent. I like a good, savory noodle and I like grilled onions and bell peppers, plenty of them. I'd snagged a couple of rangoons as well, I'm reluctant to call them 'Crab Rangoons'  since I don't recall ever coming across any crab, or even krab in the things. Thin dough wrappers encasing a dollop of cream cheese, deep fried and crispy, good enough for me.
Everyone went back for second rounds, Caprice came and went more times than I could count.
My second plate had a spoonful of rice, another rangoon and dessert, cheese cake and bananas with red sauce. I also sampled some 'Japanese Chicken' because Angel said it was good. It was.
Summary:
The food was quite good, the place was clean. The tables, floor and even serving areas were from my vantage point, spotless. Les even said the restrooms were tidy. No one had a complaint, everybody was gorged, the buffet lines remained stocked and constantly refreshed and most importantly, the servers said nothing about the carnage on the table and floor around the kids. The price was reasonable, about ten bucks per head for those twelve and over, I couldn't convince Caprice (Almost 13!!) to lie about her age, and a bit less for the toddler.
I saw no reason to be concerned about the place at all. No one got sick, no one complained, everyone found plenty of stuff to match their appetites. 
So even after a few months of operation, the Hibachi Buffet is staying the course, offering reasonably priced, decent quality food in a safe, clean environment.
My daughter liked it, her kids  liked it, what else do you need? It's good!






Hibachi Buffet on Urbanspoon

Monday, August 4, 2014

Bistro at the Square

48 Jefferson Square
DeSoto, Mo.


Wow, I'm struggling mightily with this one.
Angel said she wanted something 'fancy'. We're not fancy people. For us, 'fancy' means tablecloths, folded linen napkins and a flower on the table. That's what the Bistro offers.We'd been there before, never had anything really negative to say about it, the food was pretty good.
However, sometimes the planet spins out of control, as the great scientist Dr. Peter Venkman*, once described it: "Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!"
It all started out so nicely, I remember it . . . like it was just. . . a couple of hours ago. . .  (Strokes chin, glances wistfully toward brain)
The Place:
It is located in a small-mall, Jefferson Square.There's not a lot of shopping at Jefferson Square. It's attached to a hotel though, sort of a built in clientele. The non smoking section is essentially in the hallway. It is a bit upscale though, nicely finished, high ceilings, tasteful and classy tables and chairs. Linen tablecloths.
There was one other gentleman in the hallway seating area, several, maybe ten inside the smoky bar area.
We were met by 'Server'  (No real names, I'm even going to mask and confuse gender/age range. You already know what that means.)
Server told us to sit where we liked, Angel found us a table in the back. Server passed out menus and asked about drinks. Tea, tea, Coke.
Someone turned some music on, not the cheap boombox/stereo they had last time, but the sophisticated electronics assemblage at the mini stage the live musician was to perform on. That familiar name again, David Blum. I've been to several places that he was scheduled to perform, we've just never been there late enough to actually hear him.
Through his five figure system came music, country music. It was going to be a long night. I decided what I wanted, not steak. I always get steak at the Bistro and it is always good, time to mix it up a little. Server showed up with our drinks, I could tell the tea was not especially fresh just looking at the tumbler, cloudy.
Server asked if we were ready to order, yes, yes we were. So we did.
The Food:
Me: Catfish Filet served with slaw, dinner roll and a potato side. I asked about the 'Cowboy Potatoes' Server described them, I accepted.
Angel: She asked about the night's specials. Server had to run back to the signboard at the host station to see what they were. "I just started my shift." Server said and then rattled them off, barbecue pork chops or Seafood Pasta. Angel decided on the Seafood Pasta.... I'll repeat that, the Seafood Pasta. It came with a salad.
Adam surprised us by ordering roast beef and green beans. Kind of an interesting choice for a kid, but he had been working at a pizza joint all day. Maybe a traditional, homestyle meal was exactly what he was craving.
Server took off. We sipped our drinks, downloaded some apps, they had solid, five-bar WiFi. I tried not to listen to the music.
Jerry Lee Lewis
Reba McIntire
Then some songs, more recent ones I assume, with ridiculous lyrics and questionable morals and absolute, rampaging sexism. I looked one of the songs up on the Google because it was so insulting and crass. Adam saw me using old fashioned search engine technology and wowed us by opening up an app on his cellular phone that listened to a few bars of music then told you who/what it was. I was impressed. Perhaps if I listened to music I would have known about such apps, but I didn't. He mentioned the name of one of the better apps for doing that. I downloaded it.(Shazam) Awesome!
The one I was looking up was 'Big Green Tractor'  performed by Jason Aldean. I don't know who that is. However I'm certain growing up in urban Macon Georgia and attending a private school (Windsor Academy) certainly prepared him for a life of asking girls to ride his big green tractor, unless that's a euphemism.
This was followed by 'The Ride' by David Alan Coe. A silly song about a paranormal experience with Hank Williams. I suppose after all those years in prison can make you a little delusional. ". . .can you bend those gee-tar strangs?"
Then it got worse.
"Tequila Makes her Clothes Fall Off."
It's everything you imagine, and worse.
This intellectual insult and degrading ode to ignorance and sexism was, oddly enough, followed by "Redneck Woman" by Gretchen Wilson. I know my Springfield Mo., friends are probably big fans of Gretchen who made her bones singing there, but really. . .  can't we try to do better?
Then a surpising thing happened, the music stopped. I looked and David Blum was tuning and checking his instruments. An acoustic guitar, a hollow body electric and a two tier keyboard with a magic music box (drum/beat box) plugged into it. Was it possible? Were we actually going to hear David perform?
Hold it, what about the food?
I'm glad you asked. The reason I just wrote about all the songs we were forced to listen to was to make a point. During that entire time, there was no service, except for the delivery of Angel's salad. No drink refills, no followup checks, nothing.
I didn't watch the clock, but it was  taking a long time. I checked the time stamps on my photos later. Between the photo of the menu and the first photo of an entree, forty five minutes had passed. Angel's salad was delivered pretty promptly, eaten, finished and plate taken away early during that span.
The salad itself bode well for us. "The best salad I've had in a long time!" She said. Real bacon and lots of it. I tasted it. Yeah it was good. No entrees yet, but David took the stage. I knew this could go either way.
Then he knocked my socks off. He opened with a cover of 'Black Magic Woman" an old Santana hit. David did an amazing job. I was very impressed. Things were looking up.
Catfish, Cowboy potatoes.
Somewhere during his third song, the food finally arrived. My catfish, Adam's roast beef and Angel's Pork Chops. . .
Were you paying attention?
She didn't order the pork chop special, she ordered the seafood pasta special. Server was confused. My hope was that Server had picked up the wrong plate and could just go back to the line and pick up the correct one and we could dig in.
Well, that didn't happen. A couple of minutes later I saw server sitting at a table talking to another crew member. They talked for several minutes. Adam started picking at his plate, feeling awkward about eating before everyone got their meal. We raised him right. I waited, picked at one off the potatoes. Cowboy potatoes are thick sliced and fried, with onions. These were pretty good.
"You can go ahead and eat." Angel told us.
"No, no I can't." I replied. "No tartar sauce, no slaw and no roll." I added.
"Oh my." She responded.
At least ten minutes went by before Server came by saying, "Your dinner will be ready shortly. My fault, I ordered up the wrong special."
There, that's better.
"Excuse me, but I'm still waiting for my slaw, tartar sauce and roll." I scolded, that's what It sounded like, a scolding.
"Oh yes, I'm sorry."
Server scurried off and came back rather quickly, carrying the goods.
Server looked down at our empty glasses and finally asked if we'd like a refill.
Duh.
From the time the meals were mis-delivered, to Angel's pasta finally showing up, fifteen minutes. Not a huge amount of time, unless you are watching your own food cool down.
My fish was pretty good. Fans will recall that I tried to order catfish the past weekend. I was in the mood for some fried, bottom feeding, river fish and this was certainly satisfactory. Crunchy, flaky, not over spiced. Adam said his food was pretty good, he ate it all.
Angel had a problem. Or two.
The toast, thick and butter-grilled was flaccid and over-buttered. I tried a piece, she wasn't kidding. It was like the bread soaked up a bunch of butter instead of just caramelizing on the outside. Like they put it on a grill that wasn't quite up to temperature. The inside was mushy, greasy.
Then there was the pasta. It looked good, it had lots of little shrimps in it.
Prepared sea creatures don't stand a chance around Angel, she will eat them all, even if she doesn't eat all the pasta they are delivered in. About halfway through though, still hosting a dozen or more small shrimp, she pushed the plate away.
"It's too salty." she said.
"That's my line." I replied.
"Try it." She challenged.
I did, she was right. This night was just not going to be any fun to write about.
At some point a more senior looking person came to our table and apologized. Nothing fancy, no overeager offer to comp part of the check or give us a coupon, I wasn't looking for that, but it was a rather weak and obligatory effort.
Server delivered the check.
Server didn't get a tip.
David did. I slipped a ten spot into his tip jar on the way out. He was the star of the evening, he wasn't forgetting songs, playing the wrong instrument. He had his head in the game. Server didn't.
Summary:
I really struggled with this write up. I don't like to pen bad things about locally owned and operated eateries, I really don't.
I was especially troubled by the fact that I knew they could do better.
However, let me be very clear. Server's head just wasn't in the game. I get that, it happens. It happens to me occasionally. Something usually comes along and snaps me out of it though, or I get yelled at. That'll do it too. I'm pretty sure server got a stern talking to. As far as I'm concerned, that should do it. Oh, and the no tip thing.
Maybe server was just having a bad day. Sure there were multiple infractions, everything took too long, two out of three meals were botched. But that's all perfectly fixable. No heads need to roll, no executions or public floggings required. It was a badly botched service. Get over it, get your cart back on the tracks, and move on.
The food, specifically the pasta dish, was a disappointment. Maybe rushed because of the service error, I don't know, but this is not what we've come to expect from this normally fine place.
As far as recommendations go, sure I can do that!
Go see David Blum wherever he might be performing. He did another Santana cover, 'Evil Ways', which he also knocked out of the park, and did it again with 'Ain't no Sunshine.' Truly amazing!
He also did some more country/rockabilly stuff, and he was quite good. But you already know my opinion of that sort of music.
Seriously, I was going to tip him even if the service was good. I don't usually tip musicians, because I so rarely see them perform, but this guy was worth every nickel.
Sure, we'll be back to the Bistro, for now, we're just going to chalk this fiasco up as a fluke.




*"Ghostbusters" reference.

Bistro At The Square on Urbanspoon