The Mayan

So, lately I've had a few people mention that I should be a food critic, which makes me really happy because visiting amazing restaurants and tasting anything and everything and then writing about it all sounds like just about THE funnest thing on the face of the earth. Therefore, I will proceed with this, my first critique. But I warn you, it is scathing.


For weeks I've been hearing radio spots suggesting that we get the truth right out there and agree that while The Mayan restaurant in South Jordan boasted scantily-clad divers, and even fire dancers, the food was terrible. This confession was followed by the spokesperson proudly announcing the arrival of a brand new chef whose creative genious is destined to turn the fate of this much-deserving eatery around. "Come try it," they said. "You'll be amazed," they said.


So I did. Why not give the new guy a shot? For all we know he's got the vision and seasoning ability his forerunner woefully lacked, and all that was needed was one taste to send us praising to the mountain tops.


Unfortunately this was not the case. "Badger, party of four, your adventure is about to begin!" Was it ever!



To start, I was startled at the whisper of a menu, a mere one page consisting of absolutely nothing unique or enticing. The most basic of mexican menus stared up at me, which was interesting considering I found myself dining at a Mayan restaurant. Mayan . . . Mexican . . . I was unaware the terms were sononomous. Appetizers were ridiculously overpriced, starting at $8 each, especially considering they were concocted from Velveeta, cheap salsa, and various other store-bought, processed foods.


The steak fajitas weren't bad, but I couldn't help thinking that even the most unskilled of home cooks would make something comparable or most likely much better. However, since I hadn't dined here before the new chef arrived I asked my dinner companions their thoughts. The best they could contrive was that compared to what was served before, these fajitas were amazing! How sad.



Lettuce served with the fajitas was peppered with chopped red cabbage, obviously served straight out of the bag in which it was purchased. Tortillas were forgotten and finally served just as the meat and peppers hit lukewarm. The rice was mush, a muddled modgepodge trying to pass itself off as spanish, and the beans were covered in powdered parmesan cheese. Parmesan? Were these particualar Mayans both Mexican and Italian?


It was a pathetic, cowardly menu and the service was equally so. Servers in loud, blousy hawaiian shirts meandered down the platforms with no expression and no sense of urgency, the type you'd expect to find at a twenty-four-hour Denny's. When asked about their new chef, our waitress replied, "Um, I actually don't even know his name. Yeah, I try to stay out of the kitchen because they're always yelling back there."


How can you advertize a revolutionary change and somehow not include your staff in the selling of it?! I mentioned that I had hoped for a somewhat more exciting menu, to which she explained that, since the entire kitchen staff was new and virtually untrained, the menu had to be simple; wouldn't it have been horrible if we had had to wait an hour and a half for our food?


That would be tragic, yes. Especially considering I've had better food and more lively service at an all-night Taco Bell drive-through.

If The Mayan can only boast its culinary prowess based on the fact that it is "so much better than what it used to be", then it is destined only for the ranks of cheap, themed sub-par eateries visited only by the desperate, or those who have never tasted something real and fulfilling. I wholeheartedly discourage any from dining at The Mayan if they are looking for anything better than a pitiably below average meal.