short but sick
a couple of years ago, my family was on holliday and we dicided to visit this chippy. none of us liking fish that much, we all ordered chicken & chips. now im not an avian expert but im pretty sure chiken isnt pastel green. To cutt a short story shorter, we had them inspected and it turned out that chiken turnes green when brused. thats four respectable portions of chicken all brused. wonder what happened to it...
(Shpadoinkle Serious Awesomness, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:55, Reply)

Starburger!
I used to do medieval reenactment and there is a huge battle held every July in Teweksbury, war of the roses.

Anyway Tewks is a quiant little town I quite like it myself, It has a bugrer place in it called "StarBurger" upon entering and looking at the girl behind the till the banjo music from deliverence started up in my head.

I warily approached the curiously mishappen girl and asked for a chip in a cheery voice, she grunted back to me and leaned over to the microphone and spoke into it "Chip", I suppressed a giggle, she stood there for about ten seconds while I looked about as nothing was happening. It was an open plan kitchen and there was quite obviously no one in it, so after about 10 or 15 seconds she shambled off to prepare my "meal" me and my mate gave a long look at each other caught up in this sort of surreal moment.

She arrived back and handed me my food (which was surprisingly good and reasonbly priced) my mate ordered a pizza, again she grunted "pizza" into the microphone, waited awkwardly for about 10 seconds then shuffled off to prepared it, at this point i was chuckling away at the surreality of it all. I was wondering who the hell was she talking to.

Anyway about 10 minutes later the place filled up and more staff arrived, my mate decided to save 2 slices of pizza in the box to eat cold in the morning as his "breakfast" (ewww) and we both went to the toilet. On arriving back he found his pizza had been disposed of in a bin...

Not being one to waste a meal he went in after it, im not kidding, he was taking shit out of this bin and putting it on top, it was one of those box like bins they have in mc d's you know about a foot wide, so he was hunched down head nearly inside the thing attempting to find his pizza, and this guy gave him the funniest look I have ever seen and it lives with me to this day, he looked at him like "where did that hobbo escape from?"

Alas I couldn't contain my mirth any longer and began to piss myself laughing in the middle of this now crowded restaurant which just caused more people to look at me and then my mate, the restaurant was slowly going silent except for my insanely loud cackiling, as he, oblivious to it all was swearing his tits off looking for his lost pizza in this bin, by this point i was crying with laughter, like nearly on the ground i had to leave it was the fucking funniest thing I have ever seen to this day. I dont think he found it if my memory serves me correctly.

Sorry thats so long
(ShizerKaiser, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:55, Reply)

I ate out in some posh French restaurant
that claimed to serve English food. Taking advantage of this beneficient twist of fate, I ordered a meat pie and chips.

Not only did I have to carefully explain what a pie was, when it did eventually arrive they'd left the top off, and (worse) they'd replaced the meat with some sort of eggy shit with green bits in it! I'd bet serious money that someone had gobbed in it too...
( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:52, Reply)

Yum.
I ordered a "medium cooked" steak in a restaurant in Paris. When it came it was frazzled at one end and leaking blood into the pepper sauce at the other. No thanks.

Also, apeloverage, I have fallen in love with you through your posts alone. Lets have babies.
(SusK, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:26, Reply)

McDonalds
Okay - so not the classiest or most hygenic of restaurants, but still - as a student, its a tasty, yummy snack, with only a *slight* possibility of losing all sight and hearing due to food poisoning.

Anyhow.

There we were - a group of us, 4 students, and a brother of one of the students, who was visiting us. We were sat there, by the door, eating away, when suddenly a tramp bursts through the door.

Now obviously, he's been to this restaurant before, as the manager, quick as a flash, starts striding towards the tramp, shouting something about "I thought I told you you were barred?". We think "Meh, fine, carry on eating". But what happened next nearly threatened my appetite to never return again.

Once the manager had reached the tramp, he had suddenly gone very quiet - and with a look of fright in his eyes, let rip with the most powerful projectile vomit I have ever, ever seen. Literally streams of bright red and orange sick were flying across the restaurant, and straight onto the manager. This lasted for a good few seconds - as the manager, all the employees, and every single person in the restaurant sat there totally gobsmacked.

The tramp, once finished, just looked at the manager, smacked his lips a couple of times as if to say "Ahh, that's better", and turned and walked out, as if nothing had ever happened.

Such are the goings on in my local area at Uni. Lovely.
(Ant Marching And for my next trick... GWARGGHHGWWGGGH!, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:17, Reply)

Family thing
Me,my mum,my uncle and my twin cousins (us kiddies being about 10) were in london,when we stopped to eat at a restaurant. A rather famous restaurant actually. We sat outside,and had to wait ages before we were served. Our food took ages and was of mediocre quality. When we asked for the bill,we waited about 20 minutes,and then my uncle after some quiet talking with my mum said "come on kids,fancy a run?" He then stood up and started running. We all followed without questioning.

Now,back in those days,me and one cousin were a bit chubby,so we lagged behind with our tiny fat legs. We started walking after a bit,and when we finally caught up,we asked "why did we run?"

It turned out,id just experienced my first not-paying of the bill situation. The first of many. My family dont tolerate fools...

p.s. Main reason my uncle didnt tell us what was going on,is because my cousins had very high pitched,whiney voices with farmer accents. If they said anything,everyone in Leicester Square would have heard..
(Miharu, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:15, Reply)

The last time I ate at McDonald's
was in 2003. I was on a school trip and really had no other options for food at the time, so I ordered a chicken salad thing.
They were out of some kind of breading or seasoning, and the overly kind cashier brought out a manual of some sort with diagrams trying to explain it to me. That took about 8-9 minutes, and most of my class were already sat down eating. Then they spend another 5 minutes making my salad. They gave me the wrong dressing, but damn I just wanted to sit down and eat.
So I finally sat down and ate it, it wasn't that tasty, but I didn't expect much. When I was close to finishing I noticed a dead, dried-up fly in the bottom of my bowl. I wanted to cry.
( trintrin has jam for blood, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:13, Reply)

Many moons ago
I had a friend - we shall call him Tristan, for that is his name - who lived in a huge fuck-off house in the country with 500 small yapper-type dogs, one for each acre of land, and so on.
(I say 'had' a friend, because he's a cranberry, but that's another story.)
His stepmum could cook one meal and one alone: those chargrilled reconstituted chicken things (which were charCOAL chicken by the time she'd done with them) and underdone chips. And part of the experience laid on at Chateau Fuckoffmansion was that during this smorgasboard of horrors we had the choice of two videos to watch: Bridget Jones or Down With Love (yes, he is gay, and would throw a hissy fit saying you had 'such issues' if you suggested watching anything else - think Daffyd when he tells his parents he's 'a gay'). I very nearly committed hara-kiri with the cutlery the third time I had to watch Renee Zellweger come down that fireman's pole and I've not been able to see her in anything without tasting lukewarm, soggy chips and dry chicken fillet ever since. I wasn't a chick flick fan to begin with, but that cemented my hatred of the entire franchise.

When I was a lot younger I went with my parents to a Wimpy in Tamworth. Where my dad found a blue health and safety-style plaster in his beanburger and the whole batch had to be quarantined. He got a free one though. And some little brats had coated the menu in ketchup.

Last time I ordered takeaway - a pizza I think - from a certain local kebab merchant on my way home from the pub, it gave me what I like to call Gastric Death (a constant stream of poo until you realise what it is and stop eating until your intestines stop squirming) for a week. On the plus side I lost half a stone. (It counts as a meal out because I ate it on the way home.)

Also I went to school with a girl who nearly died from eating McDonald's when she was about 3 - she's 20 now and hasn't touched the stuff since. (Then again my mortal enemy works in McDonald's in my home town, and the former Maladict in the drive-thru where I go to uni so it's not fun for me to go either.)
( Maladicta, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:00, Reply)

Not me, but..
In a restaurant in Gran Canaria, my sister ordered a plate of spaghetti in tomato sauce. Paid £8 for it (I think).

She expected home made spaghetti, and a home made tomato sauce.

She got a plate of Heinz Spaghetti.
(Ok, I'll get me coat, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:55, Reply)

R. Jimlad
Your Dad sounds like my uncle, especially the 'sack the juggler' thing. The most memorable thing though has to be the time the waitress asked him how he'd like his steak:
'Just cut its head off and wipe its arse'
Nice.
(purplefairy, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:41, Reply)

McDonalds + Germans
Many moons ago went to Germany on a school trip and the food wasn't exactly great. Breakfast consisted of a bread roll and jam and what was left over from breakfast was expected to be wrapped up in clingflim and taken as our dinner. Evening meal was always coloured water masquerading as soup served with another bread roll and usually some type of meat that tasted disgusting. As you can imagine we were very hungry. This meant that the little spending money we were permitted didn't go on the usual tacky souvenirs, but went on whatever edible food we good lay our hands on.
Our 3rd day was a visit to Cologne and as we pulled up outside the Cathedral our little hearts jumped for joy as we spotted the famous golden arches over the road. Our mouths literally drooled at the prospect at "proper" food and we were promised if we behaved in the cathedral we could have 30 minutes in McDonalds. The cathedral tour went by in a haze as I dreamt of what wonders I could buy for 10 Deutsche Marks. I believe I skipped across the road and when I reached the till I could have died from the joy. "Fries and lots of them" I asked as the German assistant stared inquiringly at my eager face. "And ketchup" I added hoping he understood what ketchup was. My chips are served to me and my heart sinks, I'm given a tiny, tiny portion of chips and mayo in place of my beloved ketchup. Arguing follows, much hilarity is to be had over the language barrier and I didn't get my ketchup or lots more chips. Those German's sure know how to crush a young spirit
(NotSaying lurking is fun, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:22, Reply)

Fresh or Frozen?
Went with future wife to Paris for a mucky weekend many moons ago (it was the night Robert Maxwell went overboard!) and went for a romantic meal in Montmartre.

Everywhere is packed apart from one place that just has 2 Japanese tourists in it. I should have guessed from this and moved on but hunger drove us in.

Get menus and some vino and decide to order the sardines. Waiter rocks up and i ask him if they are fresh or frozen? "oh no zir, zey are teaned!" (put on your best French accent), so I opt instead for the pate - can't go wrong with that in Paris.

When that arrives it still had the marks from the bottom of the can.

Bastard!
( Blackdogmanguitar is out with Fat Larry's Jazz Band on, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:10, Reply)

Quong
In Hanoi, I hired a lad to take me round all the sights on the back of his motorbike. At lunchtime I said I was fine going with him to where he'd normally take his lunch, to see a bit of real city life, as you will.
Took us to a back-alley open aired restaraunt, nothing wrong with it at all. Ordered lunch for me, nothing wrong with that either.
It was only halfway through the stir-fry he got me that I noticed all the roasted, hairless, quartered dogs hanging up in the kitchen.

Still, was pretty tasty.
(kidcamel is due to call your mum at, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:06, Reply)

Chinese
We were in The Gambia and decided that a Chinese restaurant in a nearby village would be ideal for a night out. Wrong. The hot and sour soup was passable but the main courses were totally disgusting. Spare ribs that were just deep fried gristle and bones, the chicken had obviously died of malnutrition and the beef was probably donkey meat. We sent almost everything back with little recompense. (And the booze was shit too.) Fuck 'em.
Edit: The Lebanese restaurant in Serakunda the next night, however, was abso-fucking-lutely brilliant.
( Puromycin is still licking windows, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:02, Reply)

French? Anyone?
Sorry, obligatory crap French service story here. Was in Paris, in summer, all the nice people have left because of the heat. Walk into a restaurant with family, it's empty, lone waiter is counting change ala Scrooge from a Christmas carol. Plonks down menus, food arrives, not bad, etc. Finish main course, waiter arrives plonks down bill. "Errm, excuse me? Is there any chance of dessert please?" The look of contempt on the man's face was palpable. "Dessert?!" He asked as if we'd just ordered the testicles of a 12 year old boy. Storms off, plonks dessert menus down. Gah, next day, went to the local chinese restaurant, and since my mum and aunt speak fluent mandarin, had a lovely meal.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 18:02, Reply)

In provincial eastern Europe,
I found that vegetarianism was unheard of.

In southern Hungary, a 'vegetarian' pizza was such an alien idea that the chef struggled to come up with enough ingredients, and I was served a pizza topped with tinned sweetcorn and peas.

In Poland, my 'vegetarian' pizza had every vegetable under the sun on it, including broccoli.

Eating out in Szeged, Hungary, in the poshest restaurant we could find for a birthday party, I was served 'the' vegetarian option, which seemed to be fried mushrooms served in a brown fatty sauce. Horrible. Oh, and a 'tomato salad', which was a tomato sliced up on a little plate.

Everything in Hungary was a combination of meat/deep fried/thick sauce, with hardly any fresh vegetables.

They have wonderful desserts though, which almost makes up for it.

I still lost about a stone!
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:29, Reply)

Mayo with that?

I used to work in the “restaurant” at Slough Ice Rink back in the late 80s. It was shit. Imagine the burger joint in Beavis & Butthead, except with lower recruiting standards, less rigorous working practices and zero supervision.

One guy who worked there was a likeable idiot called Mark. Absolute animal he was. He used to have a rather pervy fascination with one of the professional ice skaters that used to train there, a Scandinavian girl called Charlotta. Fair play she was proper fit and most blokes there fancied her, but you could tell with him it was a little on the wrong side.

Anyhoo, one day Charlotta came in and ordered a chicken salad roll. When the order was brought out back the usually terminally lazy and uninterested Mark suddenly perked up and jumped at the chance to make it. To everybody’s great surprise.

When he finished he stood in the middle of the kitchen holding the aloft in front of all the staff, then said “watch this” – then suddenly pulled out his erect cock, opened the roll up, and proceeded to wank briefly but vigorously until he popped his plums all over the contents. To everybody’s great surprise.

He then calmly tidied the roll up a bit, put the top back on, took it out front and served it to her. We all stood behind the counter and watched her eat it.

BTW Charlotta if you happen to be reading this (as if) – it was Mark Cleversley wot dun it. And he’s dead now so you can’t get him back. Ha. (but if you'd like to come and wank over my sandwiches feel free, any time)
.
(Barry_Bulsara, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:25, Reply)

They have some great strong grog too...
While in Kosice, Slovakia last year (for a conference with many other geeky science types), we all stopped off at one of the more traditional restaurants in town. Now for the most part the food was cracking and the menu threw up some of the best attempted translations in history (examples being "Dainty of Granny" and "Chimney Sweep's Balls"). At the dessert stage however, it started to become obvious that they hadn't accounted for so many customers in one evening: all 20-odd of us went for their speciality, some bizarre pancake-like construction with everything added. At my end of the table, we were not only the fastest eaters but nearest the kitchen and so were getting our orders in first. What we got was great, but as these things were delivered further and further down the table, vital ingredients (sauce, fruit and ultimately pancake itself) started to go missing - no prior explanation, just a sheepish "sorry, out of fruit now" etc as they put the plates down . The poor bastards at the far end ended up with plain ice-cream in place of the intended central European dessert extravaganza. Too late to share any of mine tho'.
(ElectricClare, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:18, Reply)

A million years ago...
My mum and dad went on a weekend to some shitty seaside resort somewhere. One night they went out, had a few bevvies and then off they toddle back to to their digs via the chinese. According to my dad, back in the stone ages it was a huge treat for them to get a chinese, so he was really looking forward to his number 46 (chinese pork fried rice if it matters) and a curry sauce.

My mum thought it would be "romantic" for them to walk back via the beach, so off they go. Halfway down the beach my dad decides he needs a wee so he gives the chinese in; complemetary stripey bag, to my mum while he nips in the local pub. My mum stood on the beach all alone decides it would be fun to skim pebbles on the surf, she says she got some six and seven bouncers and was getting right into it when all of a sudden SHIT!

She chucked the chinese in the sea instead of the pebble!

Needless to say my poor dad was gutted!!!!
( Mrs.Sp@m, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:12, Reply)

hey e p f...
hehe - didn't you see the "we were typical american tourists" disclaimer. 'nuff said.
(chimpforgettable, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:11, Reply)

Grumpy Parisian Bastard Waiters
In October 2004 I was lucky enough to take part in my school's annual jolly to Paris. It was the second year in a row I'd been and I loved the place. One night me and three of the other guys who came as well went out to get a meal in the Latin Quarter, just a stone's throw away from Notre Dame cathedral.

We were on a fairly tight budget so most nights it was the restaurants with a set menu (usually costing about €8 or €9) that took our fancy. Anyway this particular evening we chose a place with what I remember being an €8 menu advertised outside through the medium of a board and a friendly waiter (later dubbed 'con man #1') beckoning us in.

The first tell-tale sign that this was a complete disaster was the fact that the menus on the tables showed a €12 set menu. We complained to our waiter ('con man #2') about this in perfect French only for him to literally write with his filth-encrusted fingernail a number 8 on the laminated menu while mumbling some shit excuse under his breath.

This guy had obviously taken an instant dislike to us. First of all, we were tourists. Secondly, we were young, and therefore irresponsible and probably thieving. Thirdly, we spoke French and therefore could've understood what he was saying if he'd decided to yell "four plates of shit to these cunts" across the dining area to the half-arsed excuse for a chef located some distance away in the 'cuisine' when we placed our orders.

We ordered our food and to drink we politely requested a pitcher of water as we were impoverished tourist/student types, which made him hate us even more as he couldn't make a few vital Euros off us on wine or beer.

Anyway, the starter came. I'd ordered soup, and received a filthy bowl with run-of-the-mill (most likely tinned) soup inside. Not being one to complain I chose to ignore the soup stain running down one side of the outside of the bowl. It had dried on as well so it's not as if the waiter had slopped it while walking to my table.

For main course I'd ordered the 'turkey escalope' which I seem to remember being a giant turkey dinosaur, tough as fuck, served alongside a pile of freezing cold twelve-day-old spaghetti and the most disgustingly sweet tomato sauce you've ever tasted chucked on top. Yummy.

I can't remember what I had for pudding even if I had anything at all, but we promptly left the money for the meal, without a tip of course, and fucked off as soon as we could. And that was the worst restaurant I've ever been in. Ever.

Apologies for length, but you can forget having a tip.
(SJH, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:11, Reply)

pogo xmf
you went to thailand and ordered a burger?

wrong on so many levels...
(e p f, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:07, Reply)

Raw...
I went out with my mum a couple of weeks ago to the restaurant where my little sister works, just to annoy her cos we knew she wouldn't like waitressing in front of us. I ordered a chicken kiev, she brought it out to me and it was still pink and raw in the middle. Apparently my sister had told the guy in the kitchen to slip arsenic in it, but he cooked it raw instead. Bitch. I was worried I was gonna get bird flu, radio 1 told me you can get bird flu from eating raw chicken.
(The Who Bird is eating Jaffa Cakes on, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:07, Reply)

May secretly contain nuts
A few weks back, a friend of mine was turning 21, so he suggested we all go out for a meal. For those of you who live in Lewisham, it was the little Sri lankan place opposite Nandos...do not go there.

There was hardly anybody else in there (no-one to start off with in fact...should've seen this coming) and we persuaded them to move a few tables so the 12 of us could sit in a group. Everybody orders, can't remember what I had but it was alright. About 10 mins in cue birthday boy and his brother calling over the waiter because there were secret peanuts in the dish which weren't written in the menu, and they happen to be allergic to peanuts. They ask them to take the plate away and bring back some without any nuts...

Waiter goes away, comes back with something similar looking, but with no nuts...on the surface. A couple of minutes later they find more nuts...obviously they've just taken the dish and tried to scoop out as many nuts as they could find. This is pretty fucking dangerous, considering the nature of peanut allergies, and the birthday boy had to take a few of his tabs, cos he was starting to flush over a bit, needless to say him and his brother refused to pay.

I'm pretty sure that legally restaurants are obliged to either have the nuts written on the menu, or something saying 'may comtain nuts'. They didn't even have a sign anywhere saying 'all products may contain traces of nut', as they're prepared in the same area...maybe I should ge tthem inspected...
( Extinct Jesus Dossier "...I think it counteracts Hitler's magic...", Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:00, Reply)

Fish-head boy
When I was about 6, my parents decided to take me and my younger sister on holiday to Majorca.

The place we stayed at was a shithole. I can't remember where it was or what it was called, but one thing I do remember was that the swimming pool was full of lizards. The hotel served food, but after our first (and only) meal there we decided to eat out in resturants for the rest of the holiday, seeing as we didn't want to catch e-coli.

Now, about halfway through the week's stay we visted a slightly posh resturant. Being typical English tourists we had absorbed very little of the local language, and so I ordered something which I could only interpret as to having something to do with fish.
After placing our order, we were chatting away merrily, waiting for our food to be prepared. My parent's dishes were brought first, then my sister's.

Then IT came.

Three fish heads. On a plate. Surrounded by various forrin veg.

STARING at me. With their DEAD FISHY EYES.

I promptly ran outside in tears and was sick in a big clay flowerpot.

My parents called me fish-head boy for a long time after that. Thankfully they've either forgotten the incident or have observed the wave of nausea that passes over my face whenever they mention it.
( Lightguy hail satan, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 17:00, Reply)

Guilt Meal
The food was fine, the only bad thing was the plate was cast iron, and so hot I blistered my thumb when I tried to move it...

...But the worst thing was I was in Kenya and had spent the day going around Nairobii National Park, and then onto a Giraffe Sanctuary where we fed the orphaned ones from a big platform...

...that evening we all went to "The Carnivore" where you got the red-hot plate and a condiment set with a little flag on the top, they kept bringing you meat until you put the flag down... yes you guessed it, I ate giraffe... I felt so guilty...
( umbongo I vote for Evil Lu as Mayor of /talk, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 16:46, Reply)

Once....
....I went to a Krusty Burger and ordered a burger. To my surprise, it took a bite out of me!
(wago, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 16:44, Reply)

Spidie Goodness
Had fish & chips the other day, unwrapped it to find a severed spider leg amongst my chips. I know it was a spider's because it was black, hairy and jointed. After sifting through to check the rest of the hairy beast wasn't lurking in my dinner I carried on. Its all extra protein, as my father would say.
(Sameranda, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 16:44, Reply)

foreign affair
i was with my family in thailand around this time last year. we were typical american tourists and decided to get a tour guide and have him bring us to all the exotic places. we stopped at this restaraunt because my brother needed some american food. we must have been their only customers that month because we were all alone in the banquet hall and their entire staff came out to serve us. all 20 of them. we looked at the menu, and sure enough it had great american classics like grilled calimari and lime milkshakes.

i decided to go for safety and order a cheeseburger, and my brother followed suit. when he gave his order however the team of waiters giggled and confessed they only had one left. i challanged him to rock, paper, scissors and won out. he went with a chicken sandwich. ordering drinks went on in much the same way, i order a coke and he does to only to be told that they've run out. so he ordered a daquiri.

while waiting for our food (which with a team of waiters like we had, you'd think it'd come out within the hour) there was a pretty pathetic live band. it consisted of a hot thai woman doing kareoke and a man, near death, accompanying on the violin. during the performance the girl would shriek and scream to 80s pop songs, and the violinist would fall asleep. they got really into it.

my brother chicken sandwich came out looking pretty good, so i was excited about my thai burger. when i saw it I suddenly became ill. it was covered in a thick layer of grease and could barely be recognized as beef (because it was yellow). i was still pretty hungry so i tucked in. it was the stringiest, grossest burger i've ever tasted. eventually i found out it was because the beef there is fed with rice and is worked until death.


mmmm.... thai food
(Baron von Aaron CHARGE!, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 16:38, Reply)