Restaurant Reviews: Indigo Joe's

Alright, I like to eat. And because of that, I sometimes don’t have discriminating taste. I don’t have many vices left, frankly, outside of a decent palate that needs tons of tasty bits to keep it entertained. So when I go out to eat and I’m actually going to sit at a table, I have decent expectations. Not high expectations. Decent is usually enough. In a world that gives us Applebee’s drive up service and Red Robin’s cookie cutter service, expectations will be slightly dulled after a time.

We went out last week to this place called Indigo Joe’s. Our western corridor of Colorado Springs is a mess. I don’t think there is one independently owned storefront or restaurant the entire Powers boulevard distance. So if I’m in that area and have to eat, I always tend to look for not the Mom-n-Pop diner, because I would have to squint too hard. Instead, I look for that one place that I’ve not actually gone to.

That’s I how I found Indigo Joe’s. It’s labeled as a sports bar. Sports bars are not known as high cuisine either. You figure the average Joe is going to be slamming beers, not wine, and the food should be salty, easy to chew and probably decently spicy to keep you buying drinks.

I’m okay with that. I like to eat, remember?

What you wouldn’t expect is fatty leftover bits, no flavor and bad service. It was pretty evident that’s what happened when we were there. We ordered an appetizer, salads and food. All showed up at the same time. The waitress complained three times about her ‘not getting the system’ of the computer. It was evident. But I believe I can expect a certain normalcy. She went ahead and put all three parts of the meal in at the same time right after we ordered. Then she left them under the lights until they were dry and rubbery. I’m not sure what she was thinking. I’m not sure what I was thinking either, expecting common sense in today’s world. I should pinch myself next time.

The appetizer was new to us-teriyaki sticks of beef. We thought, what the heck, it sounds different. Instead, it was the grizzle from some cheap beef covered in sauce. They were still pink. And really, really chewy. Bubble gum had more consistency. We had to spit out chunks.

Salads were fine. Just served at the same time. I would expect it to be fucked up, by nature of everything else.

Then the meal followed suit. Dry. Boring. I ordered something spicy, a Cajun chicken sandwich, thinking this would be the place to get something like that---my mistake. I didn’t realize the tanning bed of a heat lamp could not only kill the flavor, but actually move jalapenos towards the negative end of the spectrum. Instead, I got green boogers that had all the spunk of a Jonas’ brothers’ album.

It was gross.

See, cause I like to eat. But I don’t hate myself enough to subject myself to this crap. Folks…don’t go. Let’s at least encourage these people to work a bit for their chains.