No-Name Cafe Review
We consider this more of a public service announcement than a review. We don’t write negative reviews. That’s not our thing. So we won’t name this place. But, “There is a story to tell.”
The two of us drove to this location and entered the No-Name Cafe. After a brief jib jab with the server, we ordered. Within a very short time our entrees made their way. The plates were placed in front of us. With horror on our disappointed faces, we looked at each other to discuss this culinary mystery. Our meals looked like a couple of frogs scraped off the pavement and dipped in batter. With apprehension we dug in. These encrusted “fish” were devoid of any flavor. I wanted to be mistaken, but thought there was a layer of lard between the batter and the fillet. The Tartar Sauce could have been a substitute for Spackle or a similar item found at a hardware store. It was just plain awful. Our limits were reached when we developed the grimace of those facial contortionists known as “gurners”, often seen inside the National Enquirer Magazine. We threw up the white flag. We left this place and walked back to the car. A phenomenon began to occur. The earth’s gravitational pull on our hugely bloated bellies began to crush our legs. No mountain of Rolaids could remedy this. We eventually made it to the car and realized, “There is a story to tell.”
