As I wrote in my previous food outing, I’m a word of mouth guy when it comes to dining experiences. Yes, yes—I have personal preferences, but when someone tells me some restaurant is amazing and I simply must try it, I like to believe them. Often, this works out quite well. In the case of Tribes Coffee House (3470 Zafarano Drive, (505) 473-3615), however, I’m feeling rather let down by those who promised its greatness.
Before I get into it, let me first heap praise on San Isidro Plaza itself and its restaurant game. La Plancha Latin Grill? Killer mole. Santa Fe Capitol Grill? The only place I found open last Fourth of July, and also home of one hell of a bacon cheeseburger. Pizza Centro? The Southside location is about a million times better than its downtown older brother in the Design Center. El Milagro? Killer burger. Cleopatra? Sheesh -tewook and fries forever! Plaza Café Southside? One of the best Key lime pie slices in the city, not to mention those crispy avocado tacos with sesame seeds and pickled veggies? A thousand times yes. As for Tribes Coffee House? A swing and a miss.
Alex De Vore
While the Frito pie and the breakfast quesadilla at Tribes Coffee House both looked great, there was one thing sadly missing from both—discernible flavor.
And that is really too bad. Not only do I generally love a spot that serves breakfast all day—which Tribes totally does—they’ve got a damn fine cup of -coffee, enticing menu items like shakes and a number of tasty gluten-free options. During a recent visit with my brother, though, we left underwhelmed and nonplussed by the food’s hubbub.
It began early in the day with a text that read, “What he do? Just wanna eat something wacky.” Yes, my brother talks like that in real life, and he rarely asks to hit the streets in search of food. “We could find someplace to eat. Only rule is it has to be a place I’ve never covered.” Tribes came up shortly thereafter as an option, and we were on our way.
The hard part is that just about every non-food element of the experience was positive. The service was prompt and friendly, and the worker spoke to us like we were actual human beings (disingenuous kindness from servers really sticks in my craw, and the cashier at tribes that day was absolutely sincere). The ambiance at Tribes is just to my liking, too, from the for-sale paintings donning the walls to the laid-back kitchen table vibe of the seating areas. I’d recently enjoyed a cup of coffee on the Tribes patio, too, and I’d count it among the non-pretentious best spots to hang in town.
For our dishes, my brother made a mini-speech about the humble but legendary Frito pie. At Tribes, it comes either meat-free or with beef. He chose beef, bringing his total up to $14.95. I, meanwhile, discovered another simple but oddly enjoyable dish—the breakfast quesadilla (aka eggsadilla at some places), a scrambled egg/tortilla dish that came with red chile on the side ($10.95). Certainly the Tribes kitchen proved its kitchen staff knows a thing or two about presentation as the plates looked beautiful. When it came time for the taste test, however, we found only tastelessness—as in, neither dish tasted like much of anything.
The Frito pie, for example, came loaded with green chile, cheese and ground beef, none of which appeared to be seasoned. And the breakfast quesadilla, though cooked well and generous in its egg amounts, similarly tasted of nothing. Not even the red chile could save the latter dish, which was due, at least in part, to its gritty and almost sand-like texture of the chile. Generally one can identify notes of garlic and cumin in their red chile, though these flavors did not show themselves.
Now, I grant you that we arrived for a rather late lunch in the middle of the week, but one of my tests for a restaurant’s mettle involves how it operates when the stakes are lower; like, say, post-lunch on a random Wednesday. And though I’ll still consider Tribes a great pitstop for some caffeine when I’m in the neighborhood, the glut of San Isidro’s other fine restaurants make it hard to recommend, even if the workers are cool; even if the atmosphere feels just right.
