I am another reviewer that has to preface their review by saying: ""I used to LOOOOVE Mi Pueblo"". But.......
My wife and I used to dine weekly at Mi Pueblo. It was a popular place with great food and great atmosphere. The marinated spicy carrots alone are still on my top ten favorite foods list. The servers were cheerful and welcoming, the margaritas perfectly mixed and brimming with glistening sea salt.
6 years later..... We don't get over there as much, but last week we got inspired to meet after work on friday. All week, I was looking forward to friday,for an old favorite. When we walked in we saw maybe three tables seated, on a FRIDAY! This should have been a warning sign of their demise. We were greeted by the backs of two fat servers who made no effort to turn around even though one of them did glance up at us when we walked in. Finally someone in the back saw us and sat us.
Our server was nice enough, if not aloof, and she brought us our salsa with a pursed smile. The salsa was as good as ever, fresh ingredients, perfect recipe (I'd love to have it!)
But she didn't bring the carrots!!! The goddamn carrots are the reason we came here!!!! So we had to ask, and when they arrived, I popped one in my mouth and my face sank. They were under-marinated, not ready yet. As crisp as fresh carrots and barely any of the signature appeal of tangy and spicy. Just a bowl of slighty salty wet carrots. D-
But we said, like victims of abuse, that it was just an accident and it won't happen again.
Then our pitcher of Margaritas came (20$). It was a pale greenish color. We ordered salted rims and mine might have had 20 granules of TABLE salt clinging on to one half inch spot. It tasted like watered down lime Kool Aid with a watermelon Jolly Rancher in it. And not the slightest hint of Tequila. For a 20$ pitcher I had to say something. After politely asking to punch it up a bit, she obliged and returned with the pitcher. We were back on track.
While we waited, we were serenaded by a smiling Mariachi, to whom we tipped for his service. Unfortunately in the desolate dining room, he came across as more of a street musician begging for money than the jovial performers we remembered.
The food, I must say, was terrific. I had the Carne Asada ala Tempiquena (spelling?) and it was cooked to temp, and seasoned excellently. My wife said the tostadas she ordered were the best she ever had there.
So we were back in high spirits and able to salvage the night, our bellies full and a couple of Margaritas helping us along. And we were ready for the check. But our server had been missing for at least 10 minutes. Not a sign of her. American Spirit cigarettes don't even smoke for that long. We were ready to go for at least 15 minutes before another server finally noticed our demeanor and got the check for us. I asked ""are you our server now?"" and she replied ""No, she's at the bar talking to the Mariachi."" So we paid, and tipped her accordingly (I used to work in service, so it takes more than this for me to not tip someone at all).
Overall, I still have hope for Mi Pueblo. All of the right pieces are still there, they just have to pull them back into what it used to be. I really only wish the best for you Mi Pueblo. Good luck in the future. We will give you another chance, I don't know how many more, but at least one.