Food/restaurant rant

To each his own. But your own tastes like urine.

 

At the risk of sounding like a snob, you dumb.

 

Sometimes it's a necessity, but I generally try to avoid restaurants that don't take reservations and ask you to hold a buzzer that alerts you when your table is ready.

 

"There was a fingernail in my food, you fat ass moron! Yesterday, it was a Band-Aid!"
"Sorry, sir. The Band-Aid was holding the fingernail on."

 

Back in the '60s in high school, we'd go to a nearby Howard Johnson's for after school and sports dinners sometimes. The rule was to order fried clams for the table, not to eat, but to see what else got deep fried with them because they didn't clean their fry baskets too well. The all time winner came one night when we pulled out a deep fried rubber band.

 

Watch the documentary Som. It's about a group studying for the master Sommelier exam. It's actually quite interesting.

But, one guy keeps finding the taste of rubber garden hose in wines.

 

I thought you were a Nine Fine Irishmen guy.

 

Lucky they didn't hit you with the calamari upcharge.

 

If you're ordering fried clams or fried calamari at HoJo, how could you tell the difference between the rubber band and the clams/calamari?

That may have sounded a little snobbish.

 

And if you go to HoJo's with a vegetarian, rubber band is a nice middle ground.

 

There's a bourbon bar in Cincinnati where you have to pass a 250 question test to work.