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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my mother's sausages
My mother brought home a pound of sausages. Very strange sausages. Swiss, or something, but my memory is hazy on the origin. My memory is not hazy about the smell. They stank. Of dick cheese. I kid you not. As she merrily fried them, the retch inducing stench of unclean helmet infused the entire house. My dad made himself scarce (thanks, dad) while my brothers and I sat at the table utterly refusing to eat such things. I think the stalemate lasted about an hour before my mother finally caved.
Apologies for it not being out, but the worst meal out I've ever had is only something like the food not turning up, or something.
Best meal? Spaghetti with mussels at the Studio cafe in Elstree and Borehamwood. yum yum yum
( , Fri 28 Apr 2006, 10:50, Reply)
My mother brought home a pound of sausages. Very strange sausages. Swiss, or something, but my memory is hazy on the origin. My memory is not hazy about the smell. They stank. Of dick cheese. I kid you not. As she merrily fried them, the retch inducing stench of unclean helmet infused the entire house. My dad made himself scarce (thanks, dad) while my brothers and I sat at the table utterly refusing to eat such things. I think the stalemate lasted about an hour before my mother finally caved.
Apologies for it not being out, but the worst meal out I've ever had is only something like the food not turning up, or something.
Best meal? Spaghetti with mussels at the Studio cafe in Elstree and Borehamwood. yum yum yum
( , Fri 28 Apr 2006, 10:50, Reply)
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