by Samantha G. on I really want to give El Sol y La Luna 3 stars but I just don't know if I can do it anymore. Before, when it was on SoCo, it was definitely 3 stars, and sometimes up to 4! It just made more sense as a restaurant, y'know? Now it's like a combo skeezy lounge/bad Tex-mex place with spotty service and loud music. The margaritas are pretty tasty and inexpensive, and the chips and salsa are plentiful. The food itself is meh (the rice is CONSISTENTLY underseasoned - why is it even there?) but I like the cuban platter (fried plantains and black beans) okay. The enchiladas - especially mole and zacateca - and tamales are also fairly good. The service is kinda mediocre. As I said, this made sense at their SoCo location because that was what I expected. But now they've jazzed up the restaurant interior and hiked up menu prices, which makes me think the service should also improve. It seems like they are attempting to make the service better, but I think they should just stop trying to make the restaurant fit the "Sixth Street" vibe. I feel like the color-changing lights in the bar speak to this issue. Also, the music is SO LOUD! I've been on a few weekend nights and it's just been unbearable. While it's cool that they have music, it doesn't work in their new space (on SoCo the musicians performed outside on the patio, and that worked) while people are trying to eat/converse. I miss the old El Sol. I will probably come here on occasion but I can't say I'd ever recommend it as a great restaurant.
by Chase Buys on For immediate and corrective referencial sourcing of this omnifactual review, please see: http://youtube.com/wat... I've got the power. Or so I thought. On Thursday night, at Harlot, like the crack of the whip I snap attacked in my vest/tie/pinstripe combo outfit. And I came to realize what? Harlot got the power. Harlot got the power to make me spend TWO HOURS working away at the cutest guy ever: flirting, batting my lashes, pursing my lips, demurely touching my neck, his shoulders, his powerful arms, stare coyly at his beautiful face. And like seven to fourteen wise divine, I was all, "OMG, he seems to be okay with this, and heavens, could he actually be interested back? Maybe? Sort of? Potentially!" Karen K (in all her gay glory, while drunkenly whipping about her Infamous Purse of Innocence and Purity Gone The Whitney Crack-Is-Whack Route) was all, "YEAH, MAN, TOTALLY GO FOR HIM! GO! GO! GO! I'M GAY FOR MYSELF, ETC. AND SO ON!" (She's the lyrical Jesse James, FYI) and I was all "Okey dokey, Karen K. I will!" And then, a little while later, I casually make a comment with the ever-divine Shatangi O. present: "This is totally the gay corner." And the man of my dreams? "Oh, I'm actually straight. [Wait for it] and married." OUCH. He's gonna break my heart. He's gonna break my heart of hearts. Imagine my mystifed molgertation. It was mollifyingly mortifying. Do you dig what I am saying like a shovel rhyme devil??? On a heavenly level????? If so, please hand me said shovel so I can bury myself 4eva. Harlot got the power. Snap.
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