I stumbled into Cafe Rio while out shopping and read the menu posted in the window. It looked okay, I was hungry, and I had a craving for some spiciness. Once inside, I saw tortillas being made fresh right in front of me. Nice! The menu offers burritos, tortillas, salads, etc. Employees behind the counter asks guests for their choice of meat (pork, chicken, or steak), kind of beans (black or pinto), veggies, etc. (no raw onions for me). There were no nicey-niceys, like "Welcome to Cafe Rio," or "How are you today? Nobody explained how the assembly line worked or the several choices to be offered. I ate chicken the night before and don't like beef unless it's flavor is heavily masked, so decided to try the pork. Ahead of me in line was an elderly man who was asked about a couple of the choices, but one of the employees on the assembly line hardly looked up, spoke with his coworker instead, and honestly was impossible to understand because he spoke so quickly and rote-like. The man couldn't understand him. The employee seemed bored and annoyed that the man asked him to repeat the information, and the employee still hardly paid attention to the man and still was hard to understand (we are not talking about a language problem, here). Score one for rudeness.
Now the food and environment: Overhead signs labeled the pork, "Sweet Pork Barbacoa." I thought the "sweet" was a term of endearment, but OMG, it was literal! To me, the pork was sickeningly sweet--not at all what I expected of south-of-the-border pork. I could barely swallow it. And my craving went unfulfilled. The veggies, however, were very fresh and crunchy, and the decor was rustic, with colorfully painted, mismatched chairs and tables.
If I go to Cafe Rio again, I'll look inside first to see if Mr. Rudeo is there, and if he isn't, then I'll order the chicken.