Mi Dia's is a chain boasting Mexican food from scratch. When you walk in, the ambiance is new wave Mexican and you are greeted by a hostess.
C and I were trying out the place and we pride ourselves on winning over waitstaff and getting good service. We met our match. Our waitress was about as friendly as a T-rex with an itchy scrotum.
I was in the mood for a mimosa and since it was a Sunday around brunch time and the Baptist churches hadn't let out yet, I ordered one. I also ordered a dish I'd never had: Huevos Ahogados. masa medallions with a poached egg on top, oaxacan black beans, chorizo, chile poblao sauce, , and pickled onions. It was accompanied by a plate of sauteed potatoes in a red sauce: potato chilaquiles. Both C and I agreed that it was a special day... not sure why, but it was... and we were going to split a Flan.
Let's just say our good times rolled to a complete stop.
First: the mimosa was so bland, you could give it to a Unitarian. The orange juice wasn't fresh squeezed. It wasn't even Tropicana. I'd have even taken the frozen can of orange sludge from the freezer section of Tom Thumb. Nope... this was Tang. A good mimosa needs to have fresh orange juice, strained, and be very close to 1/4 juice, 3/4 champaigne. The juice is really just to give you an excuse to drink at breakfast. I'm pretty sure there was more alcohol in a homeless guy's urine than this and while I can't be sure, I think homeless pee would taste better.
Second: Huevos Ahogados got one thing right. the poached egg. It was still runny in the middle. I prefer yolk to be runny and not congealed. It's a preference. I also don't like to think the word congealed when I eat something so, again, I prefer runny yolk. The masa "boats" as they are described in the menu were aptly named. It was like chewing on the wreck of the Hespress. Yes, masa is dense, but run it through the grinder a few more times. I think the only grinder back in the kitchen was on the head cook's phone app list. The chorizo was so bland, even people from Minnesota would like it. I'm going to bet the beans came out of a can and the only reason they were on the dish to begin with was to give the dish a Mexican flare. They weren't salted much and there weren't enough of them to lend any layers of flavor. I would entertain a discussion on texture, but these mushy little piles of plant scat helped sell the dish and then did nothing... sort of like Bryan Cranston in the Godzilla remake.
The potatoes tried to make up for lack of flavor by carrying every last bit of salt in the kitchen. If "chilequiles" means, "can be used as a salt lick" then this dish rocked. By any other standard, these soggy spuds were a self loathing pile of hash brown wannabes. 
Third: the spoon. Little details make the difference between a lovely meal and dry heaving in the face cacti near the table. Not sure what was on my spoon but the ignominy I endured desecrating their decorations was enough to make me not go back.
Fourth: The Flan. A flan is a tricky dessert. I like them to be light, thin, lightly covered in syrup, and resembling a custard more than a jello. C and I both agreed that you can have no middle ground on a Flan. You either get Flan or Phlegm.
We got a phlegm flan.
It was tall, gelatinous heap of egg topped off with whipped cream. At our first bite, we both stared in horror at each other and said in unison that the whipped cream was actually cool whip. Then we jinxed each other until I won and she had to buy me a coke. We couldn't even finish the thing. I know what you must be thinking at this moment, "I bet kids in Africa don't have to put up with phlegm flans in fake whipped cream." and you would be right in thinking that. We should go grab food together sometime.
I give Mi Dia's a 2 out of 10. The only saving grace is that it had clear signage and oxygen for us to breath.
Overall, it was an overpriced meal with all the quality of a Steak and Shake and none of the wonderful flavor.
Happy eating, y'all... just not here.
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