Ordered online and 2 of our plates didn't come with sides and we didn't get the biscuits. On top of each plate there is a receipt with what supposed to be in each plate. Totally bummed out. It was a birthday dinner. We live out of town and made the drive there. This is one of our favorite places to eat.
Step right up, folks, and prepare for a dining experience that's straight out of a surrealist nightmare! Our journey began with the older waitress, who graced us with her silent presence, staring into the depths of our souls for a solid 10 seconds. Perhaps she was waiting for us to break the ice with a joke, but alas, our comedic timing was as off as the temperature of the food. Speaking of which, the culinary delights they presented us with were...well, let's just say they were more suited for a dare than a meal. The mashed potatoes, in particular, had a unique flavor profile that could only be described as "ashtray chic," with each bite offering a subtle hint of Marlboro. It was as if the chef had mistaken cigarettes for seasoning, a bold move, to say the least. But wait, there's more! Our waitress, bless her cough-ridden heart, treated us to a symphony of phlegm with her near-constant coughing, like a one-woman band of respiratory distress. It was almost as if she was trying to share her lung capacity with us, one cough at a time. And let's not forget the ambiance, with a clientele that seemed to have wandered in straight from the nearest suboxone clinic. The air was thick with the scent of cigarettes and desperation, creating a dining experience that was as uncomfortable as it was unforgettable. In summary, if you're in the mood for a dining adventure that tests your immune system and your gag reflex simultaneously, look no further. Just be sure to bring your own silverware, napkins, and possibly a hazmat suit. Bon appétit, brave souls!