Lovely place. Food is very nicely preepared. I have had a few of their chicken dishes, short ribs, lamb, and their omlette a couple of times. Service is always stellar and on the warm side of professional. One of my favorites for a nice evening out.

positive

Horrible both my sons & husband had gotten food poisoning none of us will ever go back!

negative

WARNING- if you are looking for a fresh and delicious meal, don't go to Farm. I'd give it 0 stars if I could. It was a disaster. We ordered the Belgium waffle with a side of bacon. Waffle was served with hard butter in those packets but the waffle wasn't hot enough to melt it. The bacon was way cold so I only ate a bit of that. My daughter ordered the eggs Benedict which came with country potatoes. The poached eggs were over cooked and the potatoes were the ones you buy from the freezer section of the grocery store. If that wasn't bad enough, the service was even worse. We got the food dropped off and then the next time we saw the waitress, it was to drop off the check. No question of how the food was or anything. She did have enough time to be laughing loudly with the other staff in the back though. oh and by the way, they only had two other tables when we arrived and they were finishing up. Her loss because after all that I couldn't justify a tip. I'll never go back and predict they close up shop in the near future.

negative

CONTEXT: Recently graduated college dudes stop by Cabo Wabo at the tail end of a weekend, because it has the unbeatable combination of queso and 97 televisions. THE REVIEW: Jesus Herbert Christ. We went into this not caring that it had a 2ish star review, and expecting it to be standard sub-par Tex Mex. What we got were plates of butt vomit, mildly unique from each other, served in convenient thirty minute intervals. I guess I should mention positive aspects of the experience first. The hostess was very, very attractive, as were many of the kind, smart, and important ladyfolk on the waitstaff. We must have been assigned the one legacy bid, but that wasn't much of a big deal (side note - there were about 150 waitresses, all coming from upstairs or the kitchen, at all times. There were twenty patrons. Who are you serving? What the hell is upstairs!? Irrelevant. I apologize). When ordering, the waitress let us know that salsa came with the queso, and it would be a waste of money to order the chips and salsa. That's groovy, in my book. She did that once or twice again when we were ordering our meals, and probably saved us about ten dollars by letting us know random things our hangovers weren't allowing us to pick up on by ourselves. Lastly, there was a TV in every corner, and they were all on the Sunday night NFL game. No nonsense from ESPN8: The Ocho or garbage political newsfeeds. Bueno. The one reason we stopped here, above all others, was cheese dip. It is a staple of our recovery rubric. It is a communion cracker of sorts, after a bingy, gambly wreck of a weekend in Las Vegas. The queso at Cabo Wabo was of decent consistency, with pico de gallo sprinkled on top. It never filmed, it wasn't powdered-cheese-turn-queso. It was physically acceptable. It tasted, however, like government cheese with a hint of dirt or motor oil from the ungloved hand that had handled it prior to putting it into a bowl and melting it. Did we eat it? Shit yes. Should we have? I don't know, but it still feels like the demon sauce is painted onto my esophagus. It came with thick chips that probably would have been tasty, had they been heated or lightly salted before arriving. The salsa is a thick roasted pepper (chipotle?) salsa that was on the edible side of questionable. I had been craving fajitas all weekend, mostly because my phone auto-corrected a slur I had written in a text to the word "fajitas" on the night of our arrival. Karma for my ignorant textual intention greeted me fist-to-face when I received my hamburger steak fajitas, which arrived with a fajita sizzlesmell that literally caused people at the table to cough. If your lungs bark at the smell of a food, you're probably experiencing the triggering of some sort of evolutionary warning system. I ignored it. My meatloaf fajita was served very well done, over a bed of 90% onions and 10% red peppers. The fajita complements were all satisfactory, and by the end of the meal, I was making soft tacos with just the guac, sour cream, refried beans, and shredded cheese. My friends ordered the jalapeno chicken burrito thing, the fish tacos, and the kids' menu chicken fingers. No one liked their food, save for the manchild who ordered from the kids' menu. I think the chicken fingers would have been difficult to sabotage, though, given the effort in doing so to the other dishes. Of note - four chicken strips were twelve dollars. The fish tacos were particularly no good. It seemed like someone had forgotten to deep fry them, or had intentionally *shrug* *middle finger to no one in particular* *microwave*'d them. Our bill came out to about 25 dollars a person. That may be an inaccurate number, though, because I don't know if it garnered interest while we waited for our waitress to pop out of her coma and acknowledge us. The booth at which we were seated was a backseat pulled from a 1983 Ford Tempo, and our cups of pond water may have had mosquitoes camping out on them. I can't recall. Notwithstanding our miserable experience, the $4.00 plastic cup of Coke I ordered was delicious... OH! Afterthought! We were denied outdoor seating, despite the 8-10 empty tables we noticed on the patio. It was probably for the best, as the daystar would have ruined us worse than Cabo Wabo did on its own. I wish I had more hands, so I could give Sammy's place four thumbs down. As a connoisseur of substandard Mexican food, I implore you to avoid this place. The Megan Fox lookalikes out front are Sirens, I promise.
negative