I had to work the day after Thanksgiving, so instead of enjoying the stampeding crowds at the mall on Black Friday (not), I was casually surfing the net at my empty office, lulled by the buzz of institutional fluorescent lighting. The rest of the Pineda clan did make it out to Kohl’s for some early morning retail therapy, but only lasted a few hours before giving up and settling for a day of lounging and grazing on microwaved leftovers.
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| Me and the Birthday Girl at Mesa Grill |
What a difference a day makes. By the time I met up with the family Saturday morning at the Union Square Holiday Market, they were back in full Pineda shopping mode. It was only 10:30 and they had already managed to do some major credit card damage at the Filene’s across the street. Dad even got into the spirit by purchasing a couple of Calvin Klein sweaters.
Should anyone wonder where I got my sense of humor, one need look no further than the senior Fausto. After Juan tried on a sweater that was a bit on the snug side, dad nix-ed the garment with the comment, “You look like a bratwurst.” Ouch.
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| The happy anniversary couple waiting for brunch |
It was getting close to brunch time, so we headed over the block to Fifth Avenue where Mesa Grill’s located. It seemed we were the first guests to arrive for the day. The restaurant was not yet set up for seating so we hung out in the front lobby and waited for Trish’s perpetually late friend, Billy, to arrive.
We were finally seated 10 minutes late - odd considering the restaurant was completely empty - and Billy made his triumphant entrance just a few minutes later.
I was honestly disappointed a bit by our meal. Not that it wasn’t good. It was fine - tasty, spicy, southwestern dishes - but nothing particularly outstanding. I guess I was expecting something more “special.” Instead, we got your basic brunch fare dressed up with chilies and spices. It may well have been a case of "too-high-expectation." And though the presentation was beautiful, the portion sizes were on the stingy side. Oh well, at least the lower price point made up for the lack of culinary excitement.
The décor didn’t help much either. The designer seemed to be going for a “lived in” sort of shabby-chic southwestern vibe. With its vaulted ceiling and mismatched Corinthian columns, I instead felt as though I was dining in the lobby of a Mexican courthouse.
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| My Cuban pork loin sandwich - one of the table faves. |
The room is screaming out for a David Tutera-style glamour make-over. Someone at least slap a new coat of paint on the walls and replace the faded, 1980’s style graphic art work.
On a related side note, I realize it was daytime, but the restaurant’s harsh lighting does no one any favors. Mesa Grill is not the place to meet for brunch if you’re trying to hide the fact you’ve been out on an all night bender or if you’ve had recent “freshening up” done to your face.
Still, with the meal bookended by shopping, the day wasn't a total lost.
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