Crap meals out
I'd chosen to take my in-laws to one of my favourite restaurants, only to discover it had changed hands the week before. We waited half an hour to get menus. The waitress broke the cork in the wine we ordered. She got our order wrong. The food was luke-warm, mine was overcooked, the rest was undercooked. After waiting another 40 minutes for the last course, we were told that we couldn't have any as the chef had "forgotten to de-frost the puddings".
Let's just say they didn't get a tip. Tell us of your crap meals out.
( , Thu 27 Apr 2006, 14:22)
I'd chosen to take my in-laws to one of my favourite restaurants, only to discover it had changed hands the week before. We waited half an hour to get menus. The waitress broke the cork in the wine we ordered. She got our order wrong. The food was luke-warm, mine was overcooked, the rest was undercooked. After waiting another 40 minutes for the last course, we were told that we couldn't have any as the chef had "forgotten to de-frost the puddings".
Let's just say they didn't get a tip. Tell us of your crap meals out.
( , Thu 27 Apr 2006, 14:22)
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Crap Indian Food
My girlfriend's roomates are notorious for liking dodgy restaurants, but unfortunately for us, we didn't know that at the beginning of last year of Uni.
So, to make a long story short, they conviced us to eat dinner with them at this "wonderful little Indian restaurant" on the strip.
The place was actually and old frat house with the living area converted to be the dining area (uh oh). All over the walls and tables there are reviews and newspaper clippings; not a single one newer than 2002 (Strike two).
The waiter is this nervous looking black/indian woman with this overly severe indian guy about two steps behind her, yelling the entire way. After taking our order, she in him retreated intot he back (presumeably they were the cooks too?) - where I saw through a not-so-concealing curtain - the indian guy give her one hell of a smack across the face.
After about 45 minutes of waiting, I'd about had it. The final straw was the Chicken Saag the waitresss eventually brought me; it looked like someone had taken a right big soupy shit in a bowl. My girlfriend ended up with a bowl of something red, with clearish meaty brown chunks swimming in it (Imagine the eyeball soup from Indian Jones).
Sorry to say, I did pay even though I ate nothing but bread. I was just terrified I would indirectly lead to the death of our waitress.
Ah, sorry for length. First timer.
( , Sat 29 Apr 2006, 15:22, Reply)
My girlfriend's roomates are notorious for liking dodgy restaurants, but unfortunately for us, we didn't know that at the beginning of last year of Uni.
So, to make a long story short, they conviced us to eat dinner with them at this "wonderful little Indian restaurant" on the strip.
The place was actually and old frat house with the living area converted to be the dining area (uh oh). All over the walls and tables there are reviews and newspaper clippings; not a single one newer than 2002 (Strike two).
The waiter is this nervous looking black/indian woman with this overly severe indian guy about two steps behind her, yelling the entire way. After taking our order, she in him retreated intot he back (presumeably they were the cooks too?) - where I saw through a not-so-concealing curtain - the indian guy give her one hell of a smack across the face.
After about 45 minutes of waiting, I'd about had it. The final straw was the Chicken Saag the waitresss eventually brought me; it looked like someone had taken a right big soupy shit in a bowl. My girlfriend ended up with a bowl of something red, with clearish meaty brown chunks swimming in it (Imagine the eyeball soup from Indian Jones).
Sorry to say, I did pay even though I ate nothing but bread. I was just terrified I would indirectly lead to the death of our waitress.
Ah, sorry for length. First timer.
( , Sat 29 Apr 2006, 15:22, Reply)
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