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El pollito, courtesy of Me
Overall I’m inclined to agree with Carl about the crack metaphor: it’s overused, and unless you punched your mother in the face or [redacted] someone’s [redacted] and then let them [redacted] in order to get it, then NO, that chicken ISN’T like crack.
When Tom Sietsema went and checked out El Pollito in Crystal City, however, that’s exactly the comparison someone used in front of him in line. Crack, that is, not the punching your mother stuff. My darling wife and I were delighted to see this review, since the place that used to occupy this storefront looked like it had about 9 customers over the six-month period it was there. Overall we won’t frequent a restaurant that doesn’t seem to do some business – old food is just not conducive to a good dining experience.
So when we went and got some takeout there on Friday evening we were a little concerned to walk in and find the place completely empty. However the rotisseries are right there in plain view and a simpler menu like this makes it less of a concern to me than a larger menu and a closed kitchen, so we went ahead and picked up our order.
Which was simply -eh-.
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