My chica had never eaten at Cowgirl's CafN, a SanTana breakfast institution located in the city's industrial area. We ate there yesterday, one of only a couple of customers on a Monday morning–damn recession. She ordered French toast; I wanted a Santa Fe omelet. Both impressed–a long serrano accompanied my omelet, while her French toast sweetened the rest of our day.
But the service! As ustedes know, that's usually the last box on my checklist of what makes a restaurant great. What we encountered at Cowgirl's, however, bordered on ridiculous. The young hostess that sat us never bothered to check to refill our drinks; my chica had to approach her twice. Our meal took about 15 minutes to prepare–this, in a diner where I've eaten many times before, during much-busier hours, where I grew to expect my meal to arrive within minutes. Four waitresses were working, yet only one acknowledged our existence. Even when she did, however, she was cackling with the young hostess about how much texts she received from random guys. Since the hostess had a big stud sticking out of her lip, I'll leave it to you folks to divine whether they were discussing homework or who schtupped who this past weekend.
Cowgirl's Cafe, 1720 S. Grand Ave., Santa Ana, (714) 542-8877. I liked the food, but get better workers!
