WELL, WELL. Do I have a review for you!
First, my wife and I have had several nice meals at El Golfo in the last few years. Second, El Golfo does a lot of nice things for the local schools, such as special nights when a percentage of their sales is given to a local school.
That being said, we have just returned from certainly the worst restaurant experience I have ever had, and I am well into my senior years.
Since El Golfo started having a Sunday buffet brunch (10 to 2) a year or more ago, I have wanted to try it. I'll probably never go again.
1. We arrived at about 10 minutes before 10:00. The front door was unlocked, so we entered the waiting area and sat down on a bench to wait. And wait. And wait. About 5 minutes past 10:00, we stood up and tried to make ourselves visible to... ... well, anyone. Finally, someone appeared and asked whether we wanted a table. "Yes, please!" At this point we realized that what staff was available was engaged in preparing a long table for a large party of patrons, only the host for which had yet shown up. After we made it clear that we were not part of the expected large party, we were shown to a table and invited to partake of the buffet.
2. Now it's pushing 10 minutes past the official opening time, and we found the buffet table as follows: four (just four) metal trays to hold the entire buffet. All trays still had their large metal covers in place, and, in addition, under the covers the trays were also covered with a plastic-film covering that would have to be removed. Finally, someone showed up and asked if we would like to partake of the buffet. "Yes, please!" One tray held sausages and fried plantains. Another held two items--mashed potatoes and some kind of mushroom gravy to be ladled over the mashed potatoes. (There went my assumption that this would be a Latino buffet. I can get mashed potatoes at Boston Market!) A third tray held blueberry pancakes--very light on the blueberries, if that's what they were. A fourth tray held what looked a little like a casserole of heuvos rancheros. That was it. Coffee mugs and cream were available, but no coffee was yet apparent.
3. I took our plates to the table, while my wife waited for coffee to appear. Back at the table, a waitress helpfully mentioned that there was sugar on the table (there was). But there was no syrip for the pancakes.
4. Everything was cold. Well, only a little above room temperature. Even my wife, who usually does not need things to be as warm as I like them, was disappointed in this. A waitress, when we mentioned this, said, "that's because we just opened the buffet." Apparently, she thought that some small alcohol flame (which we did not see) bore the full responsibility to heat the food to an edible temperature.
5. Now that I have come to the waitress, let me expand on that subject. Every time (!) she approached our table, she uttered some variation on "Is everything good?" This, despite our telling her on previous visits that the food was "disappointing," or that "everything is cold," etc. We finally began to speculate that "Is everything good" was part of a limited English or server vocabulary, or that she did not fully understand our answers in English. She did understand our opinion on the serving temperature, and she offeed me an omlette. When the "seafood" omlette I chose arrived, the only seafood seemed to be chunks of catfish. Fortunately, I like catfish, though it was a surprise to have this described as "seafood."
6. When the check came, it was not only wrong, its wrongness was undecipherable. The tax was written into the blank for "Bar," which caused some uncertainty as to whether the coffee was or was not included in the buffet price (it was). When she brought an amended check, it was wrong again, although this time the error was slightly in our favor (and again, even the arithmetic did not check out).
7. We finally asked to see a manager, to convey all of the above, and the man who finally came to our table did not seem to be any more competent to explain or understand the check than the waitress had been,
8. We were then told that the actual "manager" was a woman, and "she" was in the kitchen and would come to see us. After several minutes more, when no one else appeared, we decided to just sign the payment slip and leave. I think that it has been around 50 years since I ever left a tip of exactly zero, but even my wife (who is much more diplomatic than I), by this time said that was the appropriate amount.
9. Summing up, it seems that a part of the problem was that the staff was much more occupied with somehow accommodating the larger party group than our table of two. Another problem, I'm guessing, is that the "manager" was also the (only?) chef, a combined responsibility that was more than she could handle on this particular morning.
10. My wife, who had finally agreed to try this buffet with me, says, "Just try to get me there again!"
11. Try dinner, or El Gavilan! read more