This mini restaurant next to colorful Pepito’s is also colorful, even flamboyant with amber hues and menu boards glowing in the dark but in its exclusive ways and serving distinctively yummy food. Yogi’s teriyaki chicken bowl is hotter than its cousin from “Bamboo Café” as laid out with strawberry tea or fancy colas. My visit of enchanting delectables from the dining room’s shadowy ambiance is just the beginning. Even in the hotel outside the restaurant my chicken bowl is yummy hot as a complete dish of temperature. With my enjoyment for those striking places in both hotel and restaurant I successfully entered between different worlds in which my family has taken over drinks. Try Fuze, imagine Lipton. I’m munching chicken pieces to the puzzle- these thoughts- in order to cheer my parents up; Yogi’s keeps one atmosphere with specific lighting so restaurant buyers can dine with more self-help. They’re not buying the restaurant of course; however, ordering food for a certain kind of public demand is curious in itself like a habit. “Have a nice day,” says the cashier lady who shows a closed mouth grin later on, assorting my hot food packages into a thin white bag. My review for Yogi’s isn’t a picture when its reader remembers my quick emotions, mom’s taste of white chicken, hotel’s short proximity to chicken bowl house, not to mention fun sharing over strawberry tea I go through in the name of California identity and fast strength. Think of Yogi’s cooked chicken as a short tender above Carl’s Jr.’s with crispier protein and accommodating tablespoons of hot red sauce. Surprise in the restaurant’s darkness on Best Western’s territory where my family is staying improves on large situations, panning out in my mind’s excitement before turning out to be fairly soft if quite mute. Up to Yogi’s time my social powers with that wonderful cashier are uplifted by these few more words between us. Customer service is more personal here than Pepito’s next door. It’s not only a shaded place with temperature chicken; ambiance expands with shadows at Yogi’s’s by August season in Orange City with less sunshine than around Laughlin right inside Nevada, clean tables near mysterious walls which reflect high red flashes where my family copes with Asian-style chicken. Names for styles can be so figurative! Obviously this chicken bowl house gives an American presentation of chicken hot rice with outside influences, thus my surprise is colorful after everything my vacation comes with it turning into mystery by surprise with hot chicken bites. Yogi’s is a tiny haven with a cubed ambiance in glory red yet space gets so faint because my hot mouth reels in while surprise finds me with hotel coffee.
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