Cantina, the Taco Bell chain’s much-hyped Manhattan “urban footprint” debut, failed to ring my bell — even with cheap booze and a feeble attempt to emulate big-city grit.
With nearly 6,000 outlets around the US, Taco Bell is the belle of fast-food giant Yum! Brands’ $6 billion annual-revenue ball. The megachain’s new Taco Bell Cantinas — walk-in spots, unlike the drive-thrus that are its nationwide norm — aim to “invite customers to stay and socialize over their meal,” as per a company newsletter.
The “Mexican” chain’s strategy: lure millennials with cheap alcohol, open kitchens, free Wi-Fi, touch-screen ordering and schmooze-conducive seating.
Fifty-odd Cantinas are coming to the Big Apple by 2022, and several have already opened in Manhattan and Brooklyn. Despite comical aspirations to hipness, the only one with liquor, at 840 Eighth Ave. and 51st Street, turns out to be just another fast-food joint with diabolically bad canned music. (Several others are waiting for licenses.)
You’d better like Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You” — the seductive strains of “I’m in love with your body” greeted me on four of my five fun-filled drop-ins. Couldn’t they spring for a longer tape?
The Cantina stirs it up with beer ($5.50 to $6, squirted upward into plastic cups by cute counter taps and nicely fresh-tasting) and liquor-soused “Make It Twisted” frozen-fruit concoctions ($6.69). You can choose rum, gin or tequila for boozy slushies in a shifting array of flavors that include margarita and berry. All taste mainly of acid and ice.
The corner venue sports graffiti-like wall doodles you won’t mistake for Chick-fil-A’s cows — or Keith Haring. A helpful screen tells you when your order’s ready, but not whether they got it right: The chatty order-takers mixed mine up twice, mishearing “bowl” as “burrito” and vice versa.
Seating’s at a cramped counter, a narrow communal table (for socializing!) and a few tiny tables. A “banquette” of sorts is positioned beneath three big TV screens — all blaring the same grim news from New Jersey to Afghanistan.
After Vice hilariously proclaimed the Eighth Avenue spot “the coolest place to get a drink in Midtown” in December, a buzz arose that Taco Bell Cantina is a millennials’ hangout for birthdays and such. Maybe, on nights when the blood moon rises, it is. But the after-dark scene I found was more Last Chance Saloon: Kids too young to drink, hungry truck drivers, cops on breaks and a few thoroughly lost-looking souls scarfing down 570-calorie Double Cheesy Gordita Crunch combos before turning in.
Five young out-of-towners took selfies before ordering. They were staying at the Hampton Inn across the street. “There’s nothing to eat at the hotel,” one explained of their choice of a Sunday night dining venue.
I admit to being a sucker for the $1.29 crispy nacho fries. The Double Cheesy Gordita Crunch Box — a “limited edition!” for just $5 — at least had texture and a modicum of flavor with seasoned beef tucked into soft flatbread and a crackling taco shell; the combo can be customized with a jillion sauces, cheeses and add-ons.
But the Power Bowl Chicken ($5.79) consisted mainly of damp iceberg lettuce with more flavor than “marinated” chicken, distributed over insipid shredded cheese and “Latin” rice.
They must think we’ve forgotten how a bird’s supposed to taste — or that it’s supposed to taste like anything. I’d rather take Chick-fil-A, cows and all.
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