Top Ten-- Paris

Welcome to my Top Ten Food Related Things I Experienced, Ate or Drank While I Vacationed in Paris, France (too long?). I'm not going to continue with some long, confusing and occasionally funny spiel, so here it is: My Top Ten of Paris, France! Special Mention/11.) Ham: I swear, I ate ham almost every day, and while it was great and filled with flavor, I got absolutely sick of the stuff by the end of the trip. If you do happen to go to Paris, try the ham (even put it in a crepe or baguette if you'd like) but steer clear of it or you will go insane. Seriously. Luckily my detox only involved getting locked in the bathtub for a fortnight. Oh well, I dealt with worse in the Chocolate Chip Fiasco of '02 (don't ask about it). 10.) Double espresso: It sounds odd to put, but yeah, have you ever had double espresso in Paris, France? In two words, I can describe it: wonder drug. You will be filled with energy for literally hours no matter what you do in the city. Even after a day of walking and visiting museums, a shot glass sized amount of this stuff will wake you up in a matter of minutes. Not only that, but it is extremely high quality and is quite good for you. Just don't drink it more than once a day. Bad idea. Very. Very. Bad. 9.) Escargot: Good gosh, I love these little nuggets! They have no icky taste and aren't even slimy like many would think. In fact, there's almost a fine art behind them. Every time I ordered the dish I received a few tiny, specific tools to eat them, which usually consisted of what essentially was a pair of tongs and an extremely small fork to scoop them out. You would hold the snail with the tongs while you would use the fork to, well, eat them (pretty hard to figure out). The snails were always cooked in garlic butter which is absolutely perfect to dip your bread in (well, save for olive oil, which is God-sent). The only downside is the whole thing clogging your arteries, but as long as they are not deep-fried you should be fine. Or wrapped in bacon. Or dipped in chocolate. Or anything Americans do. Yeah. Period. 8.) Produce: Another odd thing to put on this list, yes, but the produce (fruits and vegetables) were delicious almost everywhere I was in Paris. The category of salads can also fall under this, as I enjoyed a majority of the salads I consumed in France. Lightly yet efficiently dressed, with multiple, colorful vegetables, the salads were easily some of the best I've ever had. Specific examples include strawberries (which were fresh and packed with flavor) and lettuce (which had a great crunch and consistency). It may seem simple, and it may seem odd, but this was easily one of the best F.R.T.I.E.A.O.D.W.I.V.I.P.F.. Yeah, way too long. 7.) Duck confit: Yet another fattening thing goes on the list. Duck confit is this: duck preserved, submerged in its fat, before poached-- in its own fat. So it is definitely not for dieters. But it is delicious. It is usually served with a salad (which as I mentioned before is AMAZING) or a potato, but the duck by itself is rich and mind-blowing, especially the skin. Although I did not have this many times (which is why this entry is so short), it is worth the cost-- and the nutritional value-- to have for dinner. 6.) Tartare: Do not be afraid by the idea-- the product is great. If you don't know what this is, tartare is a preparation of meat, usually with some seasonings or some sort of sauce. Oh, sorry, let me modify that: a preparation of raw meat. Yes, that's right, R-A-W, raw meat. But keep in mind, the chefs are taking some ground chuck and giving it to you, it's much more than that. It's hard to describe without trying it for yourself because the taste is so specific. It wasn't overpowering, yet it wasn't bland either. But however I can describe it, the facts remain: that plate was clean when the waiter finally took it away. The only thing I regret was having it only twice-- not even close to the amount I wanted when I left. 5.) Roasted chicken: This is classic French comfort food, and I can see why. Every time I had roasted chicken, it was fall-off-the-bone, mouthwatering deliciousness, a culinary masterpiece. I've spoken about roasted chicken in the past, so I don't want to repeat myself, but let me tell you, if you have ever had roasted chicken in the past and want the best chicken in the world, come to Paris. I don't care how or what it takes you, in four words: it is worth it. 4.) Service: The service at restaurants (any restaurants, anywhere) is one of the most important aspects to eating out. I've seen all types of service, from great to friendly to mediocre to downright dreadful. I easily had some of the best service I ever had in Paris. A big portion of that comes from the fact that in France, being a waiter or waitress is a real profession. In the United States, what does one think of when they think of a waiter? A teenager or college student, trying to scrape together some money on the side. In France, that is far from the case. Waiters/waitresses in Paris are of all ages and were almost always nice and charming. They have plenty of energy and drive and work their hardest. Plus, it doesn't hurt when you know you will always get tips/money (they're worked into the bill). Maybe that's incentive. Whatever the reason, the service is Paris is terrific. Period (I'm probably overusing this, aren't I? Am I? Huh? Anyone?). 3.) Tomatoes and mozzarella: These two foods, which I ate always together, never separated, were the foods I ate the most in Paris. There are two reasons for this: one, they are in every restaurant/cafe in the entire city and two, they are delicious. I mostly ate them in the form of a salad (very similar to Caprese salad, in fact, almost identical in some places). It was served on a place, usually with the mozzarella as an unsliced hunk with about five or six slices of tomato with salt and pepper. Sometimes it was served with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, other times it was already drizzled on it. Either way, it was a perfect starter. The two were always fresh as well packed with flavor and pure deliciousness. But what made the combination even better was cutting open a small baguette and stuffing it in there. OH MY GOD! An amazing sandwich to say the least. Combined with a thin slice of ham and maybe a bit of olive oil, it was a flavorful, (somewhat) nutritional combination that was perfect for a lunch. I can only hope to replicate it here in the States. 2.) Bread: Never mind, this was the thing I ate the most in Paris. At every lunch and dinner the waiter brings a bowl or basket filled with bread before (or maybe with) your starter and main course. However, the interesting aspect about it is that you're not supposed to eat it before hand; you're supposed to eat it with your meal. No matter when you ate it, for me, it was always delicious. I honestly cannot describe my enjoyment of French bread in words. It can only be experienced when/if you taste it, and you cannot experience it by munching on an American-made baguette or boule. You have to have it in France. No exceptions. Bread is so simple, something our minds skip over, but bread really does make a difference as it did for me in Paris. 1.) Cafes: Not just the food/drink in cafes, not just the atmosphere, not just the service, it's just the idea of the French cafe that I love the most. In the United States, we have a "go go go" attitude; we are always on the go, getting our Starbucks, moving, eat your breakfast in the car, never stay in one spot, getting to work on time. In Paris things are so much different. Cafes are not for drinking or eating or moving, they are for talking and relaxing and mingling. It's a place to talk and meet people for hours on end. You could come have coffee at four in the afternoon and stay to eat dinner at eight and then leave at ten if you really wanted. Essentially you are renting the space, renting the table, you could do whatever the heck you felt like. I have not found one place wherever I have gone in Boston, or in New York, or in anywhere in America where I felt like that. French cafes really bring up a good question about us: why can't we have that same attitude? Why can't we have things like French cafes? Why can't we just chill out and stop being so "go go go"? So much history has happened at French cafes (I'm serious, look it up); whatever happened at a Dunkin' Donuts or a McDonalds or a Papa Ginos?

Sweet Cheeks Q

LOCATION: 1381 Boylston Street Boston, MA 02215 TYPE OF FOOD: Barbeque (the name of this place kind of throws you off, doesn't it?) REVIEW: We all have heard of the Bravo reality show Top Chef, one of the most brilliant shows on television currently. The idea is having a group of professional chefs compete against one another in a series of creative competitions to see who will come out on top. Many contestants have gone on and have never been heard of again, but a lucky few have actually become famous in their right. One of those contestants is Tiffani Faison, who placed second in Top Chef's first season. After placing, she worked in Todd English's brasserie in New Orleans before coming to Boston and opening Sweet Cheeks Q (not the greatest name I've ever heard of, honestly, it's like calling your diner America's D), her first restaurant. And I walked right past it. Yep, I walked right past it and I made this review as a joke. So you all can get on home- okay, I'll get to the review. I used my two femurs, patellas, tibias and fibulas to find a seat and look at the menu. As any reader of this blog would know, I am usually a pretty healthy human being, always finding the tastiest, healthiest option and deciding that to eat. So as you might imagine I might have gotten some chicken and greens or something and called it a day. And since I tricked you so cleverly the last time (I know, I know, I'm brilliant), I will not try again to ruin such a perfect record that I established. I chose the rib platter aka a half rack of red meat (dun dun dun). The platter came with two sides, so I went with collard greens and a carrot and raisin salad. One note: I really, really, really hate American Southern side dishes. I mean, really hate. I mean, REALLY HATE. I MEAN, RRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL-okay, you get the point. The ribs were literally fall-of-the-bone. The first bite I took stripped all of the meat off the bone. And it was DEELISHOUS. They did not have much fat to them, and they were cooked perfectly with a great dry rub. Seriously, it was very good eating, and despite the nutrition not being on-par (what can you expect with "The Other White Meat: The Best Piece of Nutritional Propaganda Since Those Corn Guys With That Completely Baseless 'Sweet Surprise' Campaign"? Seriously, I die a little every time I see those ads.), I ate those seven ribs with satisfaction. Next came the side dishes. I tried the collard greens first and my predictions came true: I couldn't even eat one bite. I'm not exactly sure what was in them but they were sweet, not what I was expecting at all. I spat it out. Next came the salad, and guess what: I really, really liked it. The salad had a vinegar-based dressing or a vinaigrette which gave a nice savory taste to it. The carrots had a good crunch with the raisins giving an added bit of sweetness which complemented the other components nicely. Nuts (I believe they were walnuts) also complemented the dish perfectly which added a (of course) great nutty taste. (insert long sentence involving an intricate description of walking here; seriously, isn't that a bit cliched?) SERVICE: The service was, as perfectly usual, friendly, patient and quick. My waitress seemed to be in her twenties (but I am a horrible judge of age), and seemed to know what she was doing. All in all, the service did extremely well. But what do I know? I'm a horrible judge of what's hip, what's out, video games, cars, architecture, fashion, sports and cellular phones. Maybe I shouldn't be saying that when I am a critic. Well, it's on the Internet now, and whatever is on the Internet is permanent and factual. That I learned in fifth grade health class. ATMOSPHERE: Where to begin? The atmosphere was very unique, almost on the border of overwhelming. There was a large photo on the wall of a guy eating, but why it was there is beyond me. Also present was Restaurant Cliche #32: Having multiple televisions turned on to sport channels while blasting music (seriously, tell me you haven't see that before). The restaurant also had many (what I assume) rusty scales all about the place which I found unique but odd. Perhaps the biggest, most confusing things for me was in the bathroom. The first was the stringing of Christmas lights all about the walls (keep in mind this is June, people), and I don't just me a fragment on one wall, I mean two or three strands all around the walls. But the single most confusing thing about the restaurant was this: a merchandiser that wasn't a game distributing toys inside of plastic Easter eggs. A number of questions with this: what does a toy distributer have to do with the American South? Why of all places do you put the distributer in the bathroom? Wouldn't it make more sense to put it by the front door? In fact, why have it at all? It's just a distraction, so why? In fact, that is the six words that describe this restaurant's atmosphere: "It's just a distraction, so why?" Period. PRICE: The platter, meat and sides, was twenty-two dollars in total. The quality was consistent throughout with very good portions (they do not lie when they say it's meant for a whole meal for one person). Although one of the sides was bad, they gave me quite a bit of it, and I admire that. While twenty-two dollars might be pricy for some, I conclude that this meal is perfectly worth the price at Sweet Cheeks. Q. R. S. T. U. V. W. X. Y. Z. And now I know my ABCs. :) That's a smiley face. I'm hip. RATING: Sweet Cheeks Q is a bit of an enigma, and I'm having a tough time deciding how to grade it. Let's look at the pros first: the portions are generous, but not overwhelming, the service decent, the price matching well and the food for the most part good. The cons are that the service is just decent, nothing remarkable, the food has some flaws and the atmosphere is just plain inconsistent. I did enjoy the atmosphere though, but it just doesn't make sense with the theme of the restaurant. I am going to give Sweet Cheeks Q (I know this is a nitpick, but I can't get past the "Q" at the end of that, either say "Sweet Cheeks" or "Sweet Cheeks Barbeque", but once again it's a nitpick, I'm not going to hold it against the restaurant) a three out of five, but in a different way than usual. It's not a bad restaurant, it just has some flaws, and one I would love to go back to again (like how I felt about The Hunger Games). Some may disagree with me, based on their own experiences or what I said in the review, but I am going to stand by my rating. Sweet Cheeks Q gets a (good) three out of five.

Flour Bakery

LOCATION: 190 Massachusetts Avenue Cambridge, MA 02210 TYPE OF FOOD: American REVIEW: Hello readers. It's nice to be back finally reviewing on this blog for once. For once. So, what is my amazing return to restaurant review land after seven months? Which place do I happen to fancy? What location causes me to consume its food products? What spot on the planet we call Earth beckons me past its door? What longitude and latitude was I attracted to for a lunch? What was the (insert another word for location here) RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT????????????????? Am I just stalling? WEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL, okay, okay, I'll stop. I went into Flour Bakery. I actually had a fairly long time deciding what to get (shocker). I had eaten lunch a few times before, with varying levels of quality and enjoyment. The last time I went I had the chicken, jicama and mashed avocado, which was okay but not great. The specials were a quiche with spinach and French feta, some sort of salad, a stuffed bread with sausage and some homefries that were sold out. Since none of those appealed to my culinary muscular hydrostat on the floor of my mouth which manipulates food for mastication, I turned my cognitive process of selectively concentrating on one aspect of the environment while ignoring other things to the regular menu. A grilled tofu sandwich with olive tapenade was appealing, but not by enough. A lamb sandwich was also another appealing option, but with goat cheese (one of the most vile substances on the face of this planet) I had to sadly turn my head away in shame of that horrid ingredient. Finally, I decided within seconds of ordering: a mozzarella, basil pesto and tomato sandwich on whole wheat bread (what a twist! And guess what, Bruce Willis died in Sixth Sense!) and a green iced tea would do nicely. I sat down with the iced tea in hand. The iced tea had a slightly bitter taste, but since I love bitter tea, there was no problem. The tea, luckily, was strong as an iron bar and was a perfect refreshment to have. With ten percent of the tea gone, the sandwich arrived. The first I noticed was the bread: delicious, soft to the touch and with a certain, lovely moisture to it. The next thing that came was the pesto which, despite its deliciousness, was overpowered by the mozzarella and was not present enough in the sandwich. The mozzarella was delicious and fresh as if it just was prepared in the restaurant, and if it overpowered the other elements, that was not a horrible thing. The tomato was at the bottom of the sandwich, and although its amount was small, its flavor and freshness was present as much as the mozzarella. Needless to say, I ate it all, including the iced tea and left the establishment which prepares and serves food and drink to customers in return for money happy. SERVICE: The service at Flour mainly consists of a bunch of college-aged workers behind the counter, and as a result, you interact with them for about twenty seconds. So, because of that, I did not feel an impact, positive or negative. They did not sound impatient or frustrated or happy or really any emotion, but I can't blame them: working in a restaurant at noon on a Sunday makes one busy. So I don't have a "grade" for the service at Flour. "I'm sorry" readers, "but" this "time", I "can't give "an opinion" on the "service" at "Flour" Bakery. Is it "me" or is "something" wrong with "my" keyboard? Heh, it's "probably" nothing. ATMOSPHERE: The atmosphere was busy, like I mentioned before, but was still cozy and welcoming. The restaurant had nicely bright colors and a couple of pieces of not so bad art on the walls. The menu was written on a blackboard in chalk, which gave it a French cafe feel to it (strange, I keep finding Paris travel books all over my house... hmm) that seemed authentic and not forced. The floors were nicely clean and the bathrooms had the same quality as well, even in the spots which are dirty in most restaurants (hint hint). So all in all, the layer of gases that may surround a material body of sufficient ma- oh, wait hang on, that's the definition of the atmosphere of a planet, um, hang on... let's see... Wiktionary... atmosphere... ah, there it is.. ahem, the particular mood or atmosphere-wait, that's ambiance... the mood or feeling of the restaurant was top-notch (whew, finally). PRICE: The sandwich caused the price of eight dollars in total. The portion size was on the small size, however, but it did fill me up, and based on the quality of the sandwich the price is okay. It could better, but for the quality and the fact that I was full at the end, I'll say the price matched the food. Although I'm no economist. Although I did see Margin Call. Although I studied the Panic of 1837. Although I have read about currency. Although- yeah, I'm no economist. Although... RATING: Flour Bakery is a decently priced, well-done food joint with a great atmosphere and an okay price. A couple of problems with the food and a lack of service does hurt it, and I have to hold it against the restaurant. Now, there is one thing, that as I type this up, there is one thing I have to mention. You see, when I was at the restaurant, I turned my head and I saw, well, how to say this, I saw-OMG SHERLOCK IS ON SHERLOCK IS ON SHERLOCK IS ON SORRY SORRY SHERLOCK IS ON SHERLOCK IS ON, UM UM UM SORRY SHERLOCK IS ON SHERLOCK IS ON SHERLOCK IS ON, HOLD ON GIVE ME A MOMENT GIVE ME A MOMENT- excuse me, ahem, Sherlock is on. Ahem. Flour Bakery gets a four out of five. Now if you'll excuse me, Sherlock is on. Just want to make sure you know that.

An Announcement

So... sorry to say this guys, this post isn't a review. I really am sorry, the reason for it is that I really didn't eat out this month. And once again, sorry for not doing what I wanted and having more posts, but once again, I didn't eat out this month and I have nothing to review.

So... I pretty much had a string of bad luck this month and I apologize for it. I will really try to get out more, but I make no promises.

Instead of doing a review for this post, instead I'll just say a few words and hope you can forgive me for making this horrible, horrible mistake.

Anyway, I have recently started another review blog, this one reviewing movies over on Tumblr. I'll probably update that more frequently, mainly because I watch more movies than eat out. Here's the link, feel free to check it out and as always, comment and send me emails about it with suggestions or comments or criticisms: http://anotherpersonreviewingmovies.tumblr.com/

I do want you to know that I have three drafts in the works over there and not to mention a bunch of ideas for more reviews, so I suggest you stay tuned over there. You might even see a few things coming very, very shortly; stay tuned!

Once again, I really apologize for this, and I promise there will be reviews coming as soon as I go out and there will be more than one a month. I want to continue the awards idea into next year, but I have to actually have something to award. So be patient, things will be coming, and at the very minimum I will update once a month. Be patient, and the updates will follow.

The Biting The Bay State 1st Annual Awards

That's right, I have decided to bow into the Academy Award fever and make my own awards (so what if they were on Sunday? I can still do them). These awards will honor my favorite eats during the year of 2011 in several categories. Enjoy!

BEST BREAKFAST: Since the only nominee is Metro Diner, I'll give it to them. Still, it was a decent breakfast anyway and it is deserving of something.

BEST LUNCH:
Nominees:
*New England Soup Factory
*Deluxe Station Diner
*Wasabi
*Alfileritos 24

And the winner is... Deluxe Station Diner!

This had everything-good atmosphere, nice service, fitting price and stellar food-that the other nominees lacked. This isn't to say that the other nominees were bad (New England Soup Factory is a close second and Wasabi and Alfileritos have something to them), but honestly, in a circumstance like this, the diner would win every time.

BEST DINNER:
Nominees:
*Botin
*Pizzeria Regina
*Bartley's Burger Cottage
*Trattoria Pulcinella

And the winner is... Botin!

Honestly, this was a tough one. In the end, it came down to which had the best food because all the other one were so close. And honestly, the more enjoyable food I had at was Botin, but once again, the other ones were really, really good, but Botin was just better in the end.

BEST ATMOSPHERE:
*Deluxe Station Diner
*Botin
*Alfileritos 24
*Bartley's Burger Cottage

And the winner is... Alfileritos 24!

Another close one, but Alfileritos should definitely get this one. It had an amazing, honestly, AMAZING atmosphere that blows one away. Yes, it is sort of a maze, but that just added to the atmosphere. It's clean, elegant, refined, and makes you want to stick your head in to see it. And that is exactly how an atmosphere should make you feel.

BEST SERVICE:
*Bartley's Burger Cottage
*Botin
*Trattoria Pulcinella

And the winner is... Botin!

It is really hard to do something like this, as service is really hard to review. But what gave Botin the win is that the service was able to move speedily, diligently and without neglect while being able to tend to a twenty-something large group of tourists to my right. If that doesn't make a good service, I don't know what does.

BEST FOOD (that made up for everything else):
*New England Soup Factory
*Wasabi
*Kouzina

And the winner is... Kouzina!

I decided to add this category to highlight the places I went to where the food rocked, but everything else was less than satisfactory. I don't mean these places are bad, they just have some flaws. Of these three choices, the best food would be Kouzina, it was consistent, fresh, and made up for quite a few of the flaws I encountered at the restaurant. It definitely deserves a mention.

BEST MEAL OF 2011:
*Deluxe Station Diner
*Botin
*Bartley's Burger Cottage
*Demos

And the winner is... Botin!

Just read my review and you'll understand. Botin is perfect. The food, price, atmosphere, service, everything. It nailed it. Botin is by far the best meal I had in 2011, and in the best I've had in my life. And why shouldn't the world's oldest restaurant be number one?

P.S. Don't worry, the next post will be a review, and it's not going to be the only one in a month on the last day of the month. My new year's resolution is to update more often, and I'm going to follow through on it. Trust me, you're going to see much more this year.

Tango Mango vs. Anna's Taqueria

A few years ago, there was an article in the Boston Globe. It was about three college students, who, with nothing but time on their hands, decided to sample the best burritos in the city. They all stunk, for their own separate reasons, but in the end, the majority ruled that Anna's Taqueria triumphed over all. Since I read that article so many years, I decided to do my own taste test, but this time between my two favorites: Tango Mango and Anna's. I decided to do it as soon as possible, tomorrow even, a week from then, a month, three years.... well, I decided on the last option of course.

The burritos were arranged the same way; whole-wheat tortilla, pinto and black beans, chicken, lettuce and hot sauce. After they were brought to me blind, I studied them briefly from an outside look (about two feet above the plates, ooh!. As you might believe, I concluded nothing from this look, and I took my first bite.

The first burrito had much, much flavor and when I mean flavor, I mean hot sauce. A lot of hot sauce. I could still taste the other ingredients as well, and I noticed the chicken was close to burnt. This was no problem to me. I took a second bite to reassure myself of my conclusions, found that I was right (aren't I always?) and turned my attention to the second burrito via swinging my head (I think this is what people usually do).

The second burrito... was bland. Beyond bland. It had no flavor. There was no hot sauce, and despite the amount of stuffing, I had very little other flavor. Yes, everything was cooked, yes, the tortilla was steamed right, but I didn't get much flavor. Once again, I took another bite, and I realized I was right.

FINAL VERDICT: The first burrito won my heart and my stomach on this occasion.

IDENTITY: It was Anna's. Despite my hardcore fanaticism for Tango Mango, I chose Anna's. I don't know what to think for this one. I feel I've betrayed myself. But hey, that's okay for my self-esteem, right? Right?

Note About Sportello

This is the first and hopefully only time in which the entire post is not a review, but I feel the need to write a completely new post as an epilogue (just go with it)to my Sportello review.

Sometime in May of 2010, I went to Sportello and ordered whole-wheat blueberry pancakes. It was (note: JUST was, JUST was)the greatest breakfast I've ever had in a restaurant. The review is still there, and I'm not going to change a thing to it whatsoever.

Fast forward one year and a half later. I went there to, once again, eat the blueberry pancakes. However, staring into the black writing on cut-down trees they placed in a case and called a menu in front of the restaurant, I discovered that the pancakes were (gasp! GASP! GAAAAAAAASP!)removed from the menu. While I was disappointed in that fact, I still decided to have lunch there and simply get something else.

At this point, I'm sure you're wondering, "Oh, I see no problem so far." Well, needless to say, at this point I would have to agree with you. But this is where things get worse. Much. Much. Worse.

Perhaps the main reason I went in was one dish that sparked my interest. It was a pasta dish with some sort of cheese (I'm not going through the hassle of looking it up... you'll see why in a moment... YOU'LL SEE WHY! YOU'LL ALL SEE WHY!), olives and braised rabbit. So, of course, by typing this you can probably predict that I ordered it. I did. And eventually it came. I took a bite.

Oh. My. God. When I took the first bite of that pancake that May or April day in 2010, that was my reaction. I had the same reaction with the pasta. However, things were, well, a little different between those two moments. The pancake was one of the best things I've ever eaten, probably in my top twenty-five favorite restaurant experiences. The pasta? The pasta with olives, some sort of cheese and braised rabbit? Well...

The rabbit was poorly butchered, the pasta came from a ramen noodle thing that college students eat, the olives were just meh, and the cheese, THAT GOD DARN CHEESE, overpowered every bite I ate, I couldn't taste a thing but BAD, BAD macaroni and cheese sauce. Basically, the dish was a horribly done version of macaroni and cheese for "adults" and when I mean adults, I mean some person living in East Eurasia who claims he's a quarter Italian.

It's that bad, people. It's that bad.

Will I ever go back to Sportello again? Unless they bring back the pancakes, no. Will my review remain? Yes. But I will never go back to Sportello. Never ever ever ever ever ever ever. Even if I order something else a.) I'll be sad they got rid of the pancakes and b.) I'll have memories of that awful, awful macaroni and cheese. There are no excuses. No one to blame. No way to forget. The only way I can do anything is never go back again and encourage you not to go either. There's no reason for me. There's no reason for you. What. So. Ever. That's it.

So, I think you can guess I didn't like it. I don't know. I hope I drove that point home. Whatever.

Wasabi

LOCATION: Natick Mall Natick, MA (shocker!)
TYPE OF FOOD: Sushi
REVIEW: I'm going to come out and say that I do not like malls. They do not entertain me. They do not amuse me. They do not make me laugh, or cry, or feel any strong emotions (except for bad, BAD deals... this is why we must have haggling, people! Put it up for vote! All for, raise your hands! I can't see them, but... do them anyway! Please?). Malls only make me want to riff every store I pass by alas Mystery Science Theater 3000, but it's kind of odd to hear someone passing by a L.L. Bean saying, "Maine! In Massachusetts!" However, one thing has sparked my interest at the Natick Mall, especially in recent times. And no, it's not Teavana (but they do have Teavana, the samples are so good, especially after the second... third... fourth time you have them! Come on, you've done it... you've done it, right?). The thing came, plop, right in the center of the mall, and it's simply known as Wasabi.

Having been seated down with a menu, I quickly glanced over it. Of course I wasn't going to purchase anything from the menu. All I had to do was wait. Just wait. Why? Because this sushi wasn't any normal sushi you would get at Whole Foods (though Whole Foods sushi is de- another review! Another review!). This sushi was on a conveyor belt, or more correctly, thing that went round and round with dishes of sushi with their names on them. All one had do to (again I use this phrase)was pluck the sushi dish off the belt, take off the plastic cover, place the cover back on the belt, take your chopsticks and dig in. Or more correctly, eat. Digging in's rude, you know?

Before the food came a cup of green tea, which was perfectly brewed and warmed nicely. The first dish I got was seaweed salad. While it sounds strange, it's one of the healthiest things one could eat. The seaweed was very nice, with a somewhat-nutty flavor. There was plenty on the dish, so it took me some time to eat, but I savored every bite of the delicious algae. Next was a salmon-avocado roll, which, being my favorite sushi combination, I took short work of. While I don't normally eat white rice, the white rice here was good and matched well with the flavoring of the salmon and avocado. Next came some crabsticks, which are basically just a long stick of crabmeat on rice wrapped in a thin strip of dried seaweed. The crab had a slight salty, fishy flavor to it and the texture was something along the lines of a carrot stick. I had no problem with this (despite the fact that I don't like very salty food)and the sushi was done pretty quickly. After the crab came more salmon, this time cooked and by itself with rice. This, despite being not the most exciting thing, was delicious and it quickly vanished off the plate. As a palate cleanser, I decided on some fruit kabobs from the belt. The fruit was fresh, juicy and nice, and it was a nice conclusion to the meal.

SERVICE: I probably had less time with the service than any other restaurant experience I've had, to be perfectly honest (okay, not perfectly... I only stole a rocking horse from Britain twice... maybe three times). Considering that for the most part you're serving yourself and taking care of yourself, this is perfectly reasonable (again with the perfectly... I hate that word... yet I used it... twice...). From what I could tell, they did seem to be content and were willing to serve. The tea was served traditionally with pots pouring into cups, but otherwise from being content and willing to serve, the service wasn't significant. Is this bad? No. Maybe a little? Not at all. Can it be better? How can it be? Why are there still questions being asked? Wish I knew? Why is that a question? Can we move on? Sure!

ATMOSPHERE: The main piece that drives the atmosphere is, of course, the sushi bar itself. The floors did seem clean, and the colors that were around me were very nice and refreshing. But it's kind of (leaving it at kind of for now, all you jet fast people out there... come on, you know who you are! The people who can look for cleanliness and get octopus at the same time... you know... those people!)hard when you have to focus on trying to eat and if you can't reach it, you could be out of luck. And when I mean out of luck, I mean for a long time. And when I mean a long time, I mean one or two rotations. And it doesn't go very fast. It. Doesn't. Go. Very. Fast. And. I. Kno- okay, I'll stop with the one word sentences for today. Okay. Next. Th- fine! Fine!

PRICE: Each plate, based on the color of it, has a certain price. For instance, one type of plate could be four dollars, while another could be three dollars. Overall, a meal for three without tip could be about fifty dollars or so, including tea (of course!). Considering the high quality of the dishes as well as the portion size, the price is reasonable (though keep in mind: it's fish, not a vegetable and tofu stew... it's expensive... that's what I'm trying to say... because I should know, I watched two whole episodes of Mad Money... long story). Okie dokie, next section! I can declare that now! I write them, don't I? Don't I? DON'T I?! At least I think I do. Do I? Do I? DO I? Um... I'm losing my mind.

RATING: Wasabi is a new, interesting experience in a place I don't particularly like. The food is very good with a good price to match. While there is little atmosphere present, THIS IS A CONVEYOR BELT SUSHI BAR IN A MALL! The service as well has little to speak of, BUT YOU'RE SERVING YOURSELF! EXCUSES, PEOPLE! EXCUSES!!!! OMG!!! EXCUSES!!!! OMG!!! G.T.G. TELL PEEPS 'BOUT EXCUSES! NOW! YEAH!!!!!!! Sorry, I... uh... am losing my mind. That's it. Well... Wasabi gets a four out of five.

Bartley's Burger Cottage

LOCATION: 1246 Massachusetts Avenue Cambridge, MA 02138
TYPE OF FOOD: American (because "burger cottage" is not a cuisine... well, at least until Congress passes my amendment... fourteen more years)
REVIEW: Like the term, "world-famous", "landmark" can be twisted and turned just as any other term. Apparently now, a landmark can mean anything from the Ross Ice Shelf to the Saulnier Mill to 40 Bank Street to the Citigroup Center, so obviously the term's gone through some ebb and flow, to say the least. And now with the fact that Halloween is coming up (oh, it's tomorrow... not exactly coming up), kids everywhere will be using the term in it's many forms: the red house on the corner, the place with the giant Hershey bars, and the one and only, McMansion with the flashing lights, animatronics, massive cobwebs... and that's red and gives out giant... Hershey bars. Perhaps the term is used correctly under some circumstances. Empire State Building? Yes. CN Tower? Yes. Bartley's Burger Cottage? Well... here we go.

Of course, having been to Bartley's how many times over the years (I have no idea, unless you're analyzing my digestive), I knew exactly what I wanted the second I sat down and was confronted with the famous yellow menu. What you might say? Well, it's the most famous thing on the menu. Everyone orders it. When you walk in, you can take one step in, and simply scream at the top of your lungs what it is. Ah, the classic turkey burger on whole-wheat bread with onions and a garden salad on the side, no dressing. How I've heard that cry many a time.

After some time, my salad arrived. You can't really say a whole lot about it, considering how plain it is. The ingredients were fresh, and I ate about half of it before the burger landed on the table. The burger, to say the least, is heaven in a few bites. The whole-wheat toast on it was absolutely firm, but not too crunchy, and I had to calm myself down before I ate my hands. Thank God there were two halves, as I would have thrown a hissy fit had there not been more. I absolutely loved it, and it was the closest thing something could get towards culinary perfection. So, after I paid, I did something I never dreamed of: I left. If only I stayed.

SERVICE: The service is interesting. Not in the fact that they're bad, far from it, but I think they're mostly college students, or around that age. They did seem to be experienced though, besides their age. The service does have the usualness of being patient and making sure everything is fine, with a nice tone in their voice, to top. I do know that this is in a way atmosphere, but the service often resorts to shouting their orders due to the loud grill where they cook the burgers. That isn't a problem, but considering the names of the burgers, don't get freaked out because you heard someone shouting, "One Viagra, with extra rings". Them shouting it happens. A. Lot. If. You. Don't. Get. It. From. My. One. Word. Sentences. Okay. Let's. Move. On.

ATMOSPHERE: This is the real eye-catcher, in a variety of ways. It's kind of hard to describe the atmosphere in a few sentences, but it mainly consists of quirky signs and pictures. For instance, on the far wall from the door, there is a sign that says, "The Final Exam" or something along those lines. It basically describes a variety of complicated things, like removing your own appendix, calming a crowd of people using any ancient language (except Latin or Greek... you're in luck, Kannada speakers), and writing the date in metric. There's a lot of other signs, too, but this always catches my eye when I enter the establishment. And then, of course, you can eavesdrop on some Harvard students as well. Always a pleasure, a conversation about medicine and the body in East Asia and in Europe.

PRICE: The burger was about eight dollars, and the salad four dollars and twenty-five cents? Must I say anything else? The burger delicious, the salad fresh and the price much more than reasonable. Just a little over twelve dollars for a delicious, nutritious, more than fine meal. It really is the definition of a good meal. Now, all I need to do is contact Webster's Dictionary...

RATING: Bartley's Burger Cottage is what everyone really wants: a place with fantastic food, great service, an atmosphere loaded with sights at a great affordable price. Bartley's has been serving Cambridge and Harvard for over fifty years, and it possesses both a old, nice feel as well as appealing to the young crowd. Quite honestly, you need to head to Bartley's. Now. Or. Else. I. Will. Use. The. One. Word. Sentences. Again. Wait. I'm. Already. Doing. It. Okay. Sorry. Bartley's Burger Cottage gets a five out of five.

Deluxe Station Diner

LOCATION: 70 Union Street Newton Centre, MA 02459 ("Centre"? Not "center"? So the word's become cen-tray instead of cen-ter? Come on, world!)
TYPE OF FOOD: Diner
REVIEW: As if Newton Centre needs anything else, the Deluxe Station Diner rolls in. I don't mean to sound rude, but honestly, Newton Centre has become Times Square almost. With a bank, a ice-cream store, a family restaurant, a Mexican restaurant, a "family-style" restaurant (shudder shudder), a Walgreens, a party store, a parking lot, a Peet's, two pizza places, a Chinese restaurant and a burger place, it seemed like Newton Centre had it all. And yet, they were able to jam in a little diner on top of the train stop. Is that a bad thing? Hmm...

Having been a frequent flier to the other location (Deluxe Town Diner) owned by the same owner, I knew what to get. Or, I thought I knew: the Greek wrap on a whole-wheat tortilla (the wheat one, not the Spanish one with eggs and potatoes- oh, SPAIN! LET ME FEAST ON YOUR PATATAS BRAVAS ONE LAST TIME! LET ME EAT THE PORK AND TASTE THE BREAD! SEE THE FORTRESS OF TOLEDO ONE MORE-, hmm, excuse me, I need to come back to down to Earth, hrm, the United States, hrm-). But having the usual large menu, I looked quickly to see if anything would spark my interest. Eggs? No. Pancakes? No. Anything else? Not really. That left me with the wrap and salad.

The wrap was absolutely delicious. The tortilla, as it should be, was soft and malleable. The filling on the inside was cooked to perfection and was delicious overall in the wrap. The salad was bland, but what originality can you get from a side garden salad with no dressing or vinaigrette? I, as usual, asked for a fruit salad. And, as usual, the fruit salad was only about a couple of spoonfuls big, so I quickly (and deliciously) gobbled in down. And as usual, I left the restaurant soon after. And as usual, I am typing this review. And as usual, I am ending this section with a joke. And as usual, I am moving on from this section to the service section. Starting-

SERVICE: The service was, well, honestly, what would you expect. It was nothing out-of-the-ordinary or really special. They were nice and smiling and friendly, but they were the usual bunch in restaurants. That's not a problem but maybe that is a good thing. If what you expect has been met, it makes for a better experience. But alas, I suppose this is the end of this segment. Or five lines or so. You know, maybe it's just me, but I think I should- it's six lines now! Six! Next section! Before seven occurs, and we don't want- ah!

ATMOSPHERE: This is where the restaurant gets its real kick. The atmosphere is basically steampunk-themed. I'm not a big fan of it, but it's very nice. The atmosphere really is basically steampunk crammed into a restaurant, but the steampunk is fresh and new and feels inventive yet comfortable. The floors are clean, the noise isn't too loud-but that's pushed aside by the creative decoration. Honestly, it is to the point that I suggest you poke your head just to see the place. Or maybe use the bathroom. Or maybe stop for a cup of coffee. How about a slice of pie? Am I slowly revealing what I think of the place before the rating? Well, um, yeah, I kind of am. Movin' on. I don't have time to type in the "g". I'm too kool fo' that. Wiggie wiggie word. I'm hip. I'm cool. Meat dress!

PRICE: The wrap was eight dollars and fifty cents. The price was perfect for an extremely good meal. The portion was reasonably done and with the salad(s) added in in came together to form a fit and firm meal. "A fit and firm meal." That should have been on one of those advertisements from the early forties. "Save your rations for a fit and firm meal." I don't have copyright on that. Feel free to use it. Because I'm going to totally encourage you to copy my reviews, then, oh, ten, fifteen years down the road, sue you for copyright harassment for using one phrase. Oh, and how much money? Millions of dollars. Hopefully someone will pick that up.

RATING: Deluxe Station Diner is a quaint, little diner on top of a train station that offers so much in a section which already has so much. The food is great, with the price in the same condition, as well as a good service. But the atmosphere is the real swing which puts the ball over the fence. It's retro and creative, interesting and fun. This diner is definitely one you can sink your teeth into. Ha. Ha. Ha. Sink your teeth into. Because they offer food. And you bite food. Funny. Deluxe Station Diner gets a five out of five.

Kouzina

LOCATION: 1649 Beacon Street Waban, MA 02468
TYPE OF FOOD: Mediterranean
REVIEW: Words like, "Mediterranean", "Asian", "European", and "American" are extremely vague terms, especially when it comes to food. For instance, Mongolia is as much as China is in Asia (nothing is better than listening to a little morin khuur on a Friday night). What's especially even more vague is when you look at the menu and wonder what country in the region does a certain dish come from (how does a restaurant expect to me to know where qovurma comes from?). That was the case when I stepped into Kouzina, looked at the menu, and wondered, just wondered.

What in the world is a "bronzini"? Apparently it's a fish, but to me, it sounds like some Arabian piece of furniture. Why is "pita" spelled "pitta"? It honestly doesn't make sense to me whatsoever: do we spell cake "cakke"? Despite these confusing things, I was able to decide my meal choice within the space of a few minutes: the lamb "pitta" sandwich. It took a few minutes to cook my meal, but thanks to the magic of the Internet, you only have to read one sentence in order to understand that fact. Or maybe two. Or maybe three. Or maybe four. But wait- five! But wait- oh, whatever.

The sandwich was strangely wrapped in tin foil, and was cut in half so you would get two sandwiches. It came with French fries with Feta cheese mixed in, but as I don't eat French fries, I ate the Feta cheese. It was very good, and high quality. The sandwich itself had a liberal dose of tzaziki sauce, which in this case was a good thing and it kept the sandwich wet and with a nice yogurt flavor. The lamb in the sandwich was cooked well, and was nice and chewy, as well as flavorful. The pita itself was perfectly grilled, and all in all, the sandwich was very delicious. The only problem I could see was that the meat was dripping juices, and as a result it got all over my pants and caused them to get wet. Oh well, it's a side effect of a tasty meal.

SERVICE: The service was fine, but not overly exceptional. They did their job (any guesses would be greatly appreciated) and they did it well. Apparently that job extended outside of serving food (oh, that's their job! I thought they were carrying the nuclear football-my bad!). From what I could see, they were also doing garnish and helping make the food. This is unusual (I decide what's usual and unusual! Got a problem with that?), but Gordon Ramsay doesn't know, so it don't matter. Gosh, all that Hell's Kitchen is is him having a temper tantrum. I mean, the show is good at times, but come- oh. I review food. Not shows. Sorry.

ATMOSPHERE: This is where the major problems came. The atmosphere was a real letdown. The owners hung up several mirrors and paintings as the only decoration covering about fifteen percent of the right wall, but the paintings and mirrors looked old, as if they had been up for years (the bottom of them looked orangey, rust anyone?). The floors didn't look too appealing either, though they were clean. The bathrooms though are a mess. The faucet was really working, and it overall looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a few days. I was only in there for at most two minutes, but maybe that might have been a good thing. Maybe, just maybe. Just maybe. Just maybe. What does that mean, anyway?

PRICE: Thanks to a certain recent tropical storm I'm doing this review in a bookstore, next to a Starbucks, on my laptop. And thanks to my laptop's strange inability to open PDF files, I am unable to, for certain, give the price. I do believe it was in the neighborhood of nine dollars, but I could be wrong. The price could be twenty dollars, but that doesn't matter. For any price, the food was excellent, and I would pay one hundred dollars to eat the sandwich. Taking out, of course. On my couch. Watching football. And hoping to avoid a Coors Light commercial. Oh yeah. Living the dream.

RATING: Kouzina is a place which serves excellent food with good service at a reasonable price. The major downside which prevents a perfect score is the lousy (yeah, I gots me a vocabulary!) atmosphere which really forces you to takeout, if you have that option. But I don't know that for sure. Why? Well, I'm in a bookstore. Sitting on a highchair. Typing this review. My left arm's falling asleep, and I'm hoping, really hoping, that this gets through Blogger. How's your day been? Kouzina gets a three out of five.

Botin

LOCATION: Calle Cuchilleros 17 Madrid, Spain (the big gun)
CUISINE: Spanish
REVIEW: The words, "tourist trap" can apply to many (and too many) things. Tourist traps apparently has come to mean many things (according to Wikipedia, the source of utter knowledge; if you can't find it, you shouldn't know it! But you might anyway... oh well), from flush toilets (watch as your defecation product disappears into old metal tubing built into your McMansion!) to a single tree (feel the fresh green pine needles rain down on your face!) to the city of Las Vegas (insert name/product related joke here!). But one name that was tossed in as a tourist trap was the oldest restaurant in the world: Botin. And while I was stomping around in Madrid, I decided to pop my head in for a bite to eat (it was really more of a meal, but I guess a meal is several bites one after the other).

For my meal choice, there was no dispute (or fight, or quarrel, or conflict, or battle, or argument, or... I don't think the dictionary has anymore synonyms): the world-famous (with the hyphen!) cochinillo asado, or also known as the roast suckling pig. As usual in restaurants, there were a number of close calls where I thought that my food had come (mostly involving a large group of Japanese tourists), until finally, the hot slab of pork, accompanied by some small, round boiled potatoes, reached the table and my spot in front of me (no rambling long table joke today.. or week... or post... or month... or...).

The potatoes were, for boiled potatoes, pretty good. But the main focus which stole the lighted circle on the big wooden platform was the pig. It was absolutely delicious. It was juicy, with perfectly cooked meat which would make even Ingrid Newkirk giggle like a schoolgirl. The skin on it was almost like a chip on top of the meat, and combined with the meat it was delicious. The dish was absolutely perfect in every way, with the perfect meat and the nice crunchy skin, and I eat every morsel of meat. By the end of the meal, there was literally no meat on the bones. It was absolutely perfect, and I went out of the restaurant unbelievably happy.

SERVICE: The service was very, very good. The service was experienced and was able to help people quickly (beat that, McDonald's!). While I didn't get the personal experience, I got a sense of the service from the way they served other people: the aforementioned large group of Japanese tourists. As any good group of tourists do, they ordered a whole lot of food (come on, admit it, you've done it too... my credit card has always regretted it). The service had to move around, going from seat to seat, moving quickly on their feet in order to deliver food and drinks. They were able to do it quickly and easily, and they seemed happy to do it. Seemed happy. Little did anyone know, but that night, they set their plans into motion to steal the recipe for suckling pig, and sneak underground in order to give it to Lord Voldemort. Or maybe they were just happy. I'll stick with that.

ATMOSPHERE: For a restaurant that's over two hundred seventy-five years old, they have a nice atmosphere. The place was clean and calm, with no loud voices or noises coming from the kitchen (if I only I knew where it was...) and other places. The real head turner was not the inside of the restaurant, but the outside. Outside was a couple of glass windows/cases which held many things, mostly signs. Mostly on the signs was promotional things, mentioning how Botin's the oldest restaurant in the world, Hemingway mentioned it in one of his books (The Sun Also Rises... yeah, that's right, even outside of the British Empire... wait, does that still exist?), yada yada yada. It's not a bad thing that they're doing that, it's a good thing. In Madrid though, there's no Times Square like place, so it was probably the closest you could find to a billboard around. Beats Armani anyday.

PRICE: A dinner for five costs about two hundred euros- forty euros per person (for people with a calculator out of reach... could have just used Google, but no!). That's pretty good for me, considering the extremely high quality of the meal I had just had. The forty euros that was paid was worth every cent, every juicy, yummy, delicious, warm and fresh cent. And no, I did not just heat up all my coins just so I could describe them here. And no, I am not broke because I just did that. That's the thing about denial, huh?

RATING: Botin has been considered as the ultimate tourist trap for any Madrid visitor. But my experience was the opposite of that. The food was unbelievably delicious, the service quick, the atmosphere great, and the price right. Unless Plan 9 To Outer Space has become the greatest movie of all time, Botin is not in one tiniest bit, a tourist trap. And no, I don't have a storage container with some tourists in it so I could have a literal "tourist trap". And no, I am not being investigated by the FBI, CIA, and local, state, and federal police combined. And no- you know, I'm speaking too much. Way. Too. Much. Botin gets a five out of five.

Alfileritos 24

LOCATION: C/Alfileritos, 24 (no surprise) Toledo, Spain
TYPE OF FOOD: Spanish (no surprise to the second power, yes I just made that up)
REVIEW: Spain is (cover your eyes, eight year olds out there!) one heck of a country. Any real person can discover that when they wake up at two in the morning after a Barcelona/Madrid football game (just to name a specific situation). But what is amazing about the country is its cuisine. Everything about it from its eggs to its chicken is interesting (see, the eggs are before the chicken!). And no matter where you go in Spain I'm sure you can find a good example of its food (though I never really went far beyond Madrid, that's right, no Barcelona!). On a day trip to Toledo, lunchtime reared its head like a Michael Bay movie, so I decided to go to Alfileritos 24 (and coming soon, Alfileritos 25: The Anniversary of Taste).

Of course, I was given the usual menu (why can't people break traditions here? Just give me an inked up waffle!). And of course in my mind, I had to decide what to order (why? I had been there for quite some time: a few minutes count, right?). After a few moments, I finally made my decision: I would use my saliva, tongue and teeth to divide bacalao, a white fish similar to cod (straight from my brain dictionary!). And so, that was what was told to the waitress, and some time later, the fish was delivered to me.

The fish was quite fine, with nice flavor. The bread that was served with it (extra cost!) was fine as well, but nothing extremely special. I also ordered some some green tea as well, and it was served in what seemed like a ten-pound teapot with a whole lot of metal. The tea, once again, was fine, nothing extremely special (only moderately special). Overall, it was a fine meal. I paid the price of the meal, used my tibias to make my body conform to an upright posture, and using said tibias, did the motion of walking down a series of platforms down one story, and then stepped out three pieces of wood in order to reach the earth outside the frame.

SERVICE: The service seemed to be almost always in the kitchen, doing the obvious (chain smoking? Magazine reading? Being on the internet when they should be flying and landing a plane... or did they fall asleep?): serving and making food. They didn't seem to be around often, and almost seemed to have forgotten our table; despite the fact that I was seated directly in front of the door. It could be that they were just busy, but that doesn't seem likely... just like how you can overshoot an airport by miles and only say, "I wasn't paying attention." Four words: I mean, come on.

ATMOSPHERE: The atmosphere is the most appealing aspect to the restaurant. It is as new and retro as if Twitter, Facebook, Lady Gaga, auto-tuning, and Keyboard Cat shot all of their 2007-onward energy at you in one giant blow. That as it may, the place is almost designed like a children's jungle maze. It has tons of glazed glass ramps and plants leading from two feet to four feet higher. The bathroom was locked in this maze, and although the bathroom was nice and clean, the maze aspect turrrrned meeeeeeee offffffff. Get it? Huh? Huh? No? Beatles reference? Come on! Worth a shot.

PRICE: The price of my dish was thirty-one euros and forty-eight cents (not pesos!). The dish might have been a bit too costly for some tastes, but for me it was fine considering the quality of the dish. But once again. These are euros. Not pesos. Spain. Mexico. Spain. Mexico. Get it right.

RATING: Alfileritos 24 is a nice, hip hop ya don't stop restaurant in Toledo. The food overall was fine, along with it's a little less better service and good matching price. The major draw-in, though, is it's new-inspired atmosphere, which is a good and bad trait for the place. Or, for a better term, mixed. Not a mixed bag. Put a plastic bag in a bowl with a wooden spoon if you want that. Geesh. Alfileritos 24 gets a three out of five.

Trattoria Pulcinella

LOCATION: C/Regueros, 7-28004 Madrid, Spain (I'm crashing Europe, yeah, baby, yeah!)
TYPE OF FOOD: Italian (yep, that's right: in Spain)
REVIEW: The fusion food movement, if you can call it that (seems the word, "movement", can be applied to anything nowadays.... health food movement, green movement, Civil Rights Movement.. well the last one's fine), is not something that has gained an extreme interest (for me at least, and I'm big in the food blogger world... inside my unconscious mind). But what has gained interest is placing restaurants in random countries from countries thousands of miles away. Now, you may be looking at your piece of glass on top of some metal wondering, why the heck is some random guy talking about displaced restaurants? The answer is because this review that you are currently looking over using several organs in your body consists of one. And if you didn't skip over the part you would have noticed this was an Italian restaurant (unless of course you're a psychic... then tell me when was I born, where was I born, give me three candidates for the Republicans in 2012, what is the name of the next film which will win "Best Picture" and who will game seven between Oklahoma City and Seattle... what?). And no, this is not the North End. This is Iberia. Er, Spain. Sorry.

Going to Spain can be a difficult, yet fun experience, yet when you go into a restaurant, only possessing ('cause you can hold words now!) basic Spanish, it can be kind of hard to read any part of the menu. Thanks to some early classes, however, I was able to figure a few words (and the meaning of life), which was enough to determine what to pick in order to satisfy my various internal acids. Since the menu consisted of a good section of pastas, I decided to consume one of those. Realizing that I didn't my trusty phrase book at my side (or more correctly, my pocket or more correctly, my lap, or more correctly, somewhere near me... in a ten mile radius), I decided to go with one I knew based on its name. I could only read one, so I decided upon it. After some time later, my dish of (what could it be? Marinara, primavera, penne all'arrabbiata? What is it?) puttanesca arrived on my table, reasonably warmed and ready to eat.

The first thing I noticed about the dish was that it was salty. It was salty quite a bit. That did not deter me anyway, and I continued eating the dish. It had some flavor, and the pasta was cooked very well. The ratio between sauce and pasta was adequate, and that the dish wasn't too dry or drowning in sauce. The ingredients in the sauce also didn't overpower one another. I was able to eat it all (with the help of the most abundant compound on Earth's surface) successfully, and then walk onto an over 1,200 year old city.

SERVICE: For being in a country in which the residents spoke a language which you only knew a few lists of and about five minutes looking through a phrase book, the service wasn't half-bad. They (I hope) understood I was an American, and were patient with me. When told I needed more time to think, they left and instead of coming back twenty minutes later like in a certain country I know (hint, hint), they came back in time and served there. If only I knew how to speak Spanish. If only I know how to speak Spanish. That's right. Two tenses.

ATMOSPHERE: The restaurant had authentic Italian atmosphere (and you thought you could only find it in the North End, didn't you?). The outside looked as if you had stepped into Naples (darn wormholes). Inside as you stepped in there was a place where you could drink Sangria (until two in this country... let's just say that make sure you close your windows at night... especially after a football game... no not that football). The floors were clean, and there were candles in quite a few places. The room was somewhat lighted, which added an even more authentic Italian vibe to the place. If only there was an Authentic Italian Restaurant Society. All we have is GEO, GOP, and NBA. Who could watch continuous scoring for forty-eight minutes straight?

PRICE: The price of my dish was nine and a half euros. It was a decent amount of food, not too much yet too little. It did feel almost as if the pan making the dish bumped into the salt shaker and continued stirring and stirring and stirring... but with a glass of water you could get over it. Plus the dish did taste fresh, so overall, it was a decent price. But not Vincent Price. That guy creeps me out a little. A little.

RATING: Trattoria Pulcinella is an authentic Italian restaurant in one of the oldest cities in the world. The atmosphere is pure Italy, the service great and the price reasonable. While the food was a bit salty, it was only one dish and with a glass of water, you can be able to eat it without your mouth being too salted out. You know, I think Madrid might be starting to grow on me. I just can't handle the coffee. I don't like coffee. Trattoria Pulcinella gets a five out of five.

Demos

LOCATION: 146 Lexington Street Waltham, MA 02452
TYPE OF FOOD: Greek (don't worry, there's no "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" jokes in this review (at least for the first half))
REVIEW: Greek restaurants are as much as an enigma as opening a Christmas present: when you open it, you have no idea what you'll get. Would they put stuffed grape leaves on the Greek salad (OMG!!!!! :O)? Would they have the creamy Greek dressing (GASP!!!)? Or would they, possibly would they, would they experiment with their kabobs (AHHHH!!! TWEET! MUST TWEET!!!)? Luckily, I knew of one place which had nether of these three: Demos (THANK U YEAH!!!!).

I had been there so many times I didn't need to use my vitreous humour to look at the menu: chicken kabob dinner with double Greek salad and water (oh, I know what you were thinking: you thought I would go into some long thing stating how weird the food offered was like, "Oh, they have deep fried lamb and they call it, an American classic," well I'm not going to do that, this paragraph will be trim with only a couple of sentences, so if you don't like it, you can just go- oh, it's long now, isn't it? Oh....). I sat down and after a few minutes, the salad came, though I didn't touch it (or breathe on it or think about or, gasp, smell it!), and instead I waited until more minutes later for the kabobs to come. And soon enough, the kabobs arrived.

The kabobs were nice and hot, and the chicken was nicely grilled to absolute perfection. They were nice and juicy, and I chewed on them happily. The vegetables were the exact same, perfectly grilled and one of the best sandwiches I have ever eaten when placed in a pita with the meat. After the meat disappeared to meet its' acid fate in my digestive system, I reared my ugly head to the salad. The lettuce was fresh and the vinaigrette was delicious, but the best part of it was the cheese. The cheese was slightly salty, the sign of good Feta cheese, and combined with the rest of the salad, it was absolutely delicious. Walking away with a ton full o' delicious fresh from Mount Olympus food (say hi to Demeter for me), I stepped out the door out into the parking lot out into the car out onto the street out to my house.

SERVICE: The service was nice, though I didn't get a real sense of them (I'm not Freud here, give me a break, unconscious mind). They mostly stayed behind the counter, where they took in money and orders. They brought the food to you ('cause I'm a lazy hard working American who needs to put food on the table.... and dress weird at Walmart), which was a nice bit of relaxation. The staff was authentic Greek, and has some sort of accent. Despite this, I could still understand what they were saying. My unconscious mind bothers me some times.

ATMOSPHERE: The atmosphere had direction signs, pictures, wood, perfect, authentic.... Italian. I'm not joking. The atmosphere made it look as if it was an authentic, legit (I don't have time to type the full word, blame my unconscious mind) Italian restaurant from the North End. I mean, it was mostly clean, had nice booths to sit in and fine bathrooms.... but it looked like a darn Italian restaurant. And you know what? I was kind of fine with it. One's unconscious mind works in strange ways.

PRICE: The price is about twenty-six dollars for two meals and a drink. The food was high quality and plenty of it as a kicker. Overall, the price is perfect for the delicious food. This restaurant's manager has a pretty good unconscious mind, if I don't say so myself.

RATING: Demo's is a delicious authentic Greek restaurant in every sense of the word. It has decent service and a nice price to boot. While the atmosphere looks more Sicilian than Aegean, anyone with a fit unconscious mind can get past that. Oh, I'm sorry. I think I've been seeing too much product placement. Fly JetBlue today and save money! Darn unconscious mind. Demo's gets a five out of five.

New England Soup Factory

LOCATION: 2-4 Brookline Place Brookline, MA 02445
TYPE OF FOOD: Soup (dang! I wanted it to be Willy Wonka..)
REVIEW: Speciality restaurants, like expensive Broadway musicals, have many ups and downs (sorry Spiderman fans! You'll need to wait another three hours to see the rest of the show! No refunds!). Depending on the food, your success can be great or be an epic fail (you're welcome, internet obsessed people!). Desserts? Nope. Sandwiches? Possibly. Comfort food? Hmm....

The menu had several options. At the Soup Factory (so, wait, where are the tall towers billowing smoke? Where's the angry Al Gore protesting it? I knew this was a conspiracy against Webster's Dictionary...), there are regular options available daily, while there are new options made every day. Ignoring the new options completely like Sarah Palin in the vice-presidential debates, I focused on the everyday options. Should I go with Chicken Pot Pie, even if I have never eaten a pot pie in my life (the adventurous option)? Or maybe the "Hearty" "Italian" Beef Stew (because everyone in Italy eats beef stew, right? What grains?)? Or maybe, maybe, MAYBE (I'm only saying maybe) the Lobster Newburg (hmm, butter, cream and cognac! Perfect in a soup!)? Eventually after about two to three seconds, I decided on the Chicken Noodle Soup with multi-grain bread and a fruit salad. After about two to three minutes, the soup went from ladle to paper-cardboard bowl and plastic tray to oak slab.

The bread, dipped in the soup, was very, very delicious. The soup by itself was very good, with not too much salt and nice vegetables. The noodles added a nice touch to the soup with a basic taste. After eating and then drinking the broth, I moved onto the fruit. The fruit was mostly pineapples and grapes, but was still very fresh and fine. A strange green fruit star was in the salad, and was very good, though I could not figure out what fruit it was. Still, I got up, walked towards the glass sheets and metal which was the door, and walked into the town of Brookline.

SERVICE: The service consisted of some sixteen to twenty-four year olds. There were several of them at different stations (the cup management station is the most important of all!). For some reason, as if Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1980 had hit them on the heads (because training for a movie totally makes you win Mr. Olympia, right?), they seemed confused and out of sync. The person who I gave my order to seemed like he didn't hear my order of fruit salad, and nearly didn't give it to me. I know why; it's them. They're after all of the service people! Who's next? Flight attendants? Drive-thru people? Cashiers? Gasp!

ATMOSPHERE: The atmosphere was nothing significant. There were several posters saying that they were in some magazine's hall of fame (yay! Some magazine gave five star rating two years in a row! It has a circulation of 1,050! Let's buy two-hundred dollars to show everyone we are number one! Whoo-hoo!), and a van Gogh inspired poster of a woman leaning over and eating a bowl of soup (half of the thing was pitch black!). The floors were somewhat dirty, but not enough to get seriously upset. Still, dirt is dirt, and paper straw wrappers are paper straw wrappers. Don't worry, I didn't call Greenpeace. Yet.

PRICE: I cannot seem to remember the exact price (this is why you do not play football), but I do remember it something around six dollars. Six dollars is quite good for a soup, and considering the high quality, it could be worth twenty dollars. If you had some edible gold to it. Edible gold. Google, Bing, Yahoo, LeapFish, Blekko, Goby, Boogami, Wikia Search, Yummly, Forestle, or Duck Duck Go it. Cool stuff.

RATING: New England Soup Factory is a great place with extraordinary food and great prices. However, the service is not the greatest and the floors are quite dirty. Or more specifically, covered with straw wrappers. Or more specifically, it was the mats near the door. Or more specifically, it was more on the side facing the left of the door. Or more specifically, some of the straw wrappers were ripped. Or more specifically- oh, nevermind. New England Soup Factory gets a three out of five.

Pizzeria Regina

LOCATION: 353 Cambridge Street Allston, MA 02134 (I'm back in the seat which you place on a horse in order to ride it!)
TYPE OF FOOD: Pizzeria (Really? I thought it was Chinese)
REVIEW: Eating out often provides two meals instead of just one, which of course means leftovers (and possibly bribing the little man who turns the light on the fridge to come out and play Black Ops for thirty-three and a half hours straight). And of course, for me, it means lunch found in three minutes time during the weekend (how do the British handle eating the same thing almost every day?). Usually, I am able to down four to five slices, but I started feeling sick after a mere three (I'm one-fifteenth of the way there, Joey Chestnut, one-fifteenth...). Lying on the couch trying to stretch my stomach, I tried looking back eighteen hours to figure out what had happened.

Looking at the menu, I saw a variety of "World Famous" options. I mean, who hasn't heard of the zucchini sticks served with Ranch dressing? Or maybe the Bostonian "Wedgie" (served with a pair of boxers fresh from Fruit of the Loom!)? But really, who hasn't, in the whole wide world, heard of the "Hand Breaded Buffalo Chicken Tender Sandwich Served Open Faced" with blue cheese dressing (me neither)? Despite the options, I decided to go the slightly more famous choice, and got a mushroom pizza with a side salad.

After a small wait, the salad arrived sitting on porcelain, which in turn sat a slab of wood. The salad was delicious and was fresh, and it sent satisfactory signals to my brain. A few minutes afterward, the pizza arrived. It was delicious, with fresh ingredients and was still full of energy transfered to it from the oven onto it. After eating several slices, there was still some left, so naturally, like any good penny-pinching person living in 2011, I took the remainder out of the ovens, tables, and walls forming the place known as "Pizzeria Regina". I won't describe what happened the next day, but let's just say, incorporating what I said above, I got "the bloat boat".

SERVICE: The service there was (a shocker) serving quite well (gasp). They were energetic and attentive. The waitress for me offered some complimentary bread, which I turned down, and she accepted it as if I had said yes. If only everyone could do that. Cough, cough, Winklevosses, you already got your 120 million so just take the money and go, cough, sneeze, cough. Excuse me, I seemed to have gotten an alleged broken oral contract stuck in my epiglottis...

ATMOSPHERE: The atmosphere was loud, and filled with many people (I guess that's where the noise came from, my other theory was all of that talk about Watson... I guess he found out about H&R Block long before Jennings did...). The bathrooms were clean, with several signs advertising and telling employees to wash their hands (Big Brother is everywhere... and he wants you to attend Blue Man Group on Tuesday at 8 p.m. The floors were reasonably clean, and televisions were placed in several places playing ESPN SportScience. Did you know that the red rings of a archery target is the same as a standard tire? For the trivia buffs (what is a trivia buff, anyway?)!

PRICE: The pizza was fifteen dollars and twenty cents and the salad was four dollars, leaving the total at nineteen dollars and twenty cents (I guess fifteen plus four does equal nineteen... and that pi equals 3.2! I guess Indiana was right after all!). For a sixteen inch pizza, it's expensive, but considering it's high quality, I can be tempted to let it slide. Although I might need more in order to really let it slide. Psst, I would $10000 in cash, a lifetime supply of free pizza, and free airline tickets to anywhere I want (Lake Pontchartrain, here I come!). Leave it under the mat, in a brown envelope, labeled "Pizzaz". Tuesday, 11:20 a.m. sharp. Do it soon!

RATING: Pizzeria Regina is a great local chain, with good quality food, service, and atmosphere. While the price might be a little hard for some, everything else gives a well-rounded experience to any visitor. Psst, Pizzeria Regina. I will not make the delivery person say, "I'm gonna make him a offer he can't refuse." Although if he does it, that would be cool. With Robert DeNiro nearby. This is for you, guys! Pizzeria Regina gets a four out of five.

Metro Diner

LOCATION: 2641 Broadway New York City, NY 10025
TYPE OF FOOD: Diner (I pulled that out of a hat, didn't I?)
REVIEW: There are more diners in the 6,720 square miles that most people call "New York City" (and for one person, "Ding-Dong La La Land") than any spot of equal or larger size (it's free with Hartford! Hurry now and you'll get Stamford!) on the planet. The names however, aren't too creative: "Skylight Diner" (I wonder what's in it), "City Diner" (I wonder where it is), and even "The Diner" (I wonder what happened to the adjective). With that in mind, I got into a cab and entered the "Metro Diner" (it's better than the "Square Diner").

Directing the organs which convert light into electro-chemical impulses in neutrons onto the printer toner that formed sentences with the title, "Menu" on it, I tried to use the center of my nervous system to "place" an order. There was the "Plain Bagel" (ooh, that's sounds rich), the "Thomas' English Muffin" (full of flavor), and don't forget, the "Giant Hand-Rolled Water Bagel" (now I don't need a drink! Let's get it!). After two seconds of seeing the my choice, I got the one, the only, "Metro Multi-Grain Waffle" with nuts and fruits with a fruit salad. After a few minutes, the waffle arrived (with departure scheduled for thirty minutes to twenty-four hours).

The waffle was chewy, and I could tell it came from some sort of pre-made mix. The nuts on top were not crushed, and the only real fruits on top were strawberries and blueberries. Still, the waffle was able to be consumed and digested by the acids in my stomach, so the waffle vanished within a few minutes. The fruit salad was fresh and I could eat that as well. Reasonably happy, within a little bit of me standing up, I was out on the streets of New York, New York, United States, Northwestern Hemisphere, Earth, Solar System, Universe once again.

SERVICE: The service was (insert synonyms of "good" here), but they were not extra-ordinary (ex-tra-or-din-ary, not ex-chor-din-ary, no "chor"! Unless you're a teenager, then..... go clean your room!). While they served the food and were patient as normal, they did not do it in the perfect, amazing, Pauline Kael approved way. And no, I do not think "Rain Man" stinks (what the heck is "a wet piece of kitsch"?).

ATMOSPHERE: The diner's atmosphere was similar to a crowded subway car in terms of the amount of noise (except for the first soprano shrieking at the very end). Despite the sound similarities, the floors were not covered in lollipop remains and Juicy Fruit blobs. The floors were clean, and as were the bathrooms when I stepped in. Luckily, there was no fat lady wearing Viking garb to "warm their vocal cords". I wonder if they use a space heater....

PRICE: The total price was an Alexander Hamilton plus an Abraham Lincoln (or it's three Abraham Lincolns.... or it is seven Thomas Jefferson's plus one George Washington.. and it's also, guess what, one Alexander Hamilton plus two Thomas Jefferson's plus one George Washington! Isn't it so exciting?). The fruit salad plus the fruit on the waffle was good, but the waffle being a mix... oh. Last time, I thought those mixes cost only five dollars. But I guess I thought the astrological forecasts were all correct. My bad.

RATING: Metro Diner is a well-performing diner in the heart of Diner City (with the kidneys of Diner City on the left). The atmosphere and service were very good, but with the waffle being from a mix and the price being a tiny bit too high, it narrowly misses the mark. Lesson learned: don't do an onside kick when your kicker is 1 out of 4 on them. I wonder where that came from. Metro Diner gets a four out of five.

Kitchenette

LOCATION: 1272 Amsterdam Avenue New York City, NY (that's hard to guess)
TYPE OF FOOD: Breakfast
REVIEW: Being in New York City is like being at a Beatles concert in 1963: loud, wild, and you'll have a "hard day's night" (cue crash symbol). New York can also be one of the cheesiest places on Earth (just ask "Ray's"! Or that Ray's, or that Ray's, or that one, or...). That was what I was thinking, walking down Amsterdam Avenue (why does the Netherlands get all the attention? Why isn't there a Belgium Street or Luxembourg Road? All the Netherlands have given us is uncomfortable shoes!).

With my body relying on the several pieces of wood attached to one another and set at various right angles and a few acute ones, I used my eyes to exploit the sense of sight to transmit information to my brain so I can decide what to use my stomach acids for (science textbooks always pay off in the end!). What should I use my saliva for (stay tuned to find out!)? Should I get the "Kitchenless" (we use a hot sidewalk instead!)? Or the "Farmhouse Breakfast" (we steal the chickens from a nearby farm, give them a full body massage and force them to watch "Gigli" until they give us the good stuff! Don't let PETA find out!)? Or how about the "Heartland Granola" (can reduce heart problems in 9 out of 10 people! WARNING: Side effects may include bloating, stomach pains, depression in some adults, swelling of the face, mouth and chin, nosebleeds, tooth erosion, hiccuping, ear wax increase, Venezuelan beaver infection, and zits)? Finally I made my decision: corned beef hash with eggs and toast. After an undisclosed amount of time (for the sake of the victims), the food came to me.

WOW. The toast was absolutely outstandly awesomely lyly amazing. It was almost biscuit-like and was clearly made in house. Unfortunately, the hash itself was salty, especially the meat. The eggs were edible, but wasn't the greatest I ever had. All of the food was warm and was clearly made, but it felt like someone slipped on a banana peel holding a salt container and spilled it on my food. After successfully clearing my arteries, I lifted my body off the chair and walked out the door.

SERVICE: The service served the salty hash successfully with satisfaction from myself. They were patient, didn't ask us for drinks three seconds after we sat down, were willing to make substitutions, didn't ask us for drinks three seconds after we sat down, were happy, and didn't ask us for drinks three seconds after we sat down. Do you notice a pattern here?

ATMOSPHERE: The atmosphere was very interesting. The floors were clean, and there were the usual pictures placed all over the walls, but one thing stood out: their tap water. Why, you might ask, would it be different than the tap water here? It's because they served their tap water in glass milk jars. Yes, that's right. The glass milk jars you would probably see in every farm movie starring some country boy and some girl from the city, they used them for tap water. Except this time the people actually make money. Hip hip hooray.

PRICE: The hash, eggs and toast were all twelve dollars. The food was enough to fill my stomach with enough proteins, starch and fat to tell my brain to stop putting stuff down my esophagus. There was enough food with an equal price. What more needs to be said?

RATING: Kitchenette is a great restaurant with amazing toast, good atmosphere, and good price. However, the main entree felt like someone dropped the salt container in it and then mixed it with their bare hands. And then with a wooden spoon. Then with a food processor. Then with a blender. Then with a mixer. Now you can get all of that for the low price of eight payments of thirty dollars! Kitchenette gets a four out of five.

Alice's Restaurant

LOCATION: 40 Main Street Stockbridge, MA
TYPE OF FOOD: American/Diner
REVIEW: Do not attempt to adjust the metal, glass and plastic that is sitting in front of you as read this. This is not a Alice's Restaurant, this is the Alice's Restaurant that one Arlo Guthrie described in his eighteen minute, thirteen-four second long epic, "Alice's Restaurant" (I wonder where the name of the song came from...). And for me, it was pure luck for me to end up there, due to being lost and going to the Norman Rockwell Museum (thanks a lot, Rosie the Riveter! We can do it! We can make this guy get lost in the middle of nowhere!).

Going around back, I was sat down and given a menu. Now, while it wasn't "everything you want," it was quite a big menu (Arlo lied to me... and now I will never listen to Washington County. Stink it, Lenny Waronker!). I was debating wiht myself for a few moments before my eyes saw it. It was a special item. It was only going to be served that day. It was an Indian dish served in an American restaurant (cue cliche foreboding music). It was chicken curry with brown rice. Within twenty minutes or so, it was on the piece of wood that us humans call "a table" (can you say "table", boys and girls? You can? Good for you.).

The curry was absolutely unedible. For some reason, it was creamy, and I'm pretty sure the "chef" didn't know the definition of "curry". The rice was inedible and was ruined by the curry crushing the flavor more than Reagan turning Mondale into a pulp.
There was no vegetables with the rice, no sauce, nothing to bury the flavor. So, disappointed, I rose up and walked onto the streets of Stockbridge.

SERVICE: The service was quite good. They were willing to help out when they were asked. Sadly though, they suffered from "GYWTMTTDIYWTOT Syndrome (Giving-You-Way-Too-Much-Time-To-Decide-If-You-Want-This Or That Syndrome)". After asking for a little more time to figure out what I wanted to eat, they didn't come back for several minutes. Well, I guess a couple of dishes with some misplaced gravy and potatoes is more important than the customer. Pass me the sponge.

ATMOSPHERE: If there is ever such a thing as a temple to a perfectly normal human being, it would be Alice's Restaurant to Arlo Guthrie. There were several pictures of him all over the walls of the place. There were a few tables outside but most of the tables were indoors. The floors were very clean and nice. The only major was the bathroom. The door wouldn't open for the life of me. It was so bad I had to call for the tallest male waiter in the place, who could open the door with one, swift pull. To the weights for me.

PRICE: The price was good enough that I didn't feel ripped off. Yep, I didn't feel ripped off. I didn't feel ripped off of my lunch, the annoyed feeling I felt afterwards, and the fruit I had to stuff myself full of following the experience. Not too bad, don't you think?

RATING: You can't get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant. You can walk right in, it is around the back, but the food's quality is lack. I didn't intend to visit Alice at the restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in Provincetown, 162 miles away. We got up there, and thought about our food, but I decided I needed a few moments to think. So the waiter went away, and I decided twenty seconds later. But the waiter didn't come back for several minutes. So, I decided to go the restroom. Well, I got to the door and it was closed, and it seemed like there was a chain across it. So, very annoyed and frustrated, I turned away and called for a waiter. So I sat back down and was fed my food. It tasted like garbage, so I only ate half of it. Now friends, those are one or two things that are bad but it can only go up from there, right? Well, that's wrong, as the price for it was the same. So now, if you are ever in the area, and you see Alice, you can walk up to her and say, "Alice, you can't get anything you want at your restaurant." You can't get anything you want (nor should you) at Alice's Restaurant, which gets a one out of five.