The scenario ... friends' son says "Try Caffe Boa in Tempe!" Friends invite us to go. We say yes. Check reviews: mostly awful. Do we suggest another choice? "No," we say, "it can't be that bad. Besides, why risk insulting our friends' judgment?” When we arrive on Sunday at prime dining time (6:30 PM) I count two other occupied tables besides our party of 6. Do I read the danger signs and bolt from this clear harbinger of impending danger? No. We sit. And wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. Happily, I got caught-up in the conversation with an out-of-town friend in the party and didn't notice how many "waits" there were in that sentence. Afterwards, my husband let me know that at 1 hour and 10 minutes, he raised holy heck with someone, which eventually produced a waiter. The food was unimaginative and terribly presented, as if no one really cared what the food looked like when it eventually arrived. I tasted every entree. Meh. Mine, an ersatz fettuccini Alfredo came with an extra $7 worth of dry salmon, unceremoniously dumped in the corner of the pile of gray-ish pasta. In advance, two of us had agreed to quietly pick up the tab of our out-of-town guest, making my portion of the bill 40%. I counted 1 appetizer, 6 entrees in the $15 - $17 range(one, mine at $22 given the $7 upcharge for the ruined salmon), 2 desserts, three margaritas, a glass of wine and two coffees. My share, before gratuity (which I grudgingly contributed at 20%) was $112.66. I’m no math wizard and can’t write or solve whatever equation I’d need to calculate the entire bill but, using my fingers, I figure the tab was just shy of $300 before tip. I will not return to overpriced, mediocre food with terrible service. The place was pretty, though. Shame.
Own or manage this property? Claim your listing for free to respond to reviews, update your profile and much more.