Upon arriving, we marveled at the adorable decor. I felt as though we weren't in Philly anymore. We picked up a bottle of tequila on the way and were presented with a pitcher of citrus margarita, which were fabulous. I had high hopes for the rest of the meal.
For appetizers, I got empanadas stuffed with oaxaca cheese and roasted poblano peppers. They were pretty good, but there were only two pieces, and they left more to be desired. Pretty typical. General got pork nachos, which I think was one of the specials. The plate was huge...like bigger than an entree (much less an appy) should be. Initially, he was impressed. But as he ate and ate, and then ate some more, he started feeling a bit woozy. And we didn't even get our entrees yet!
When the entrees did come out, we were barely halfway through our appys. General apparently likes feeling rushed, but not me. It was annoying. I got enchiladas with homemade award winning mole sauce, and General Tso got some sort of steak. My chicken enchiladas were okay; the sauce had a smoky chocolaty taste, which was very distinct, but got kind of old. General was unimpressed with the steak. He said it was sliced the wrong way and underdone. Plus he was still kind of sick from the pork. On the bright side, I got to drink all the margarita while he was moaning and groaning.
Nachos of Death
Empanadas
General Tso's take: Okay guys, let me give it to you straight. None of this sugar-coating that Napoleon likes to do. This was by far the worst restaurant we've gone to. Where do I begin? First they tempt you with an amazing ambiance, good service, and fun decorations. Then, they pound your stomach into submission with toxic meat.
First of all, the pork-topped plantain nachos, while a good idea, was way too big. Tasty, but big. As I was about halfway through, a strange feeling began developing in my belly. I felt a fever coming on. Was I nauseous, or just full? I tried to persevere.
Then, the main course came out. Recommended by our waitress, I felt that a steak was just what the doctor ordered. This skirt steak, however, was so rare I think they just lopped off a piece of cow from out back and put it on a hot plate. Blood dripped everywhere, like some cheesy horror flick. Except the only murder that night was the murder of my taste buds. To compound matters, they cut WITH the grain! "Oh let's see," the chef must have said to himself, "how can I make a tough cut of meat even tougher...eureka!"
Oh yeah, and I definitely got some sort of food poisoning that I had to live with (read: suffer through) for the next 24 hours. Hooray.
Rating: 2.8/5
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