I recently had the gastronomical misfortune of wandering into this vomitorium while on vacation in the otherwise charming little town of Talkeetna. I ordered the steak, medium-rare. Not a complicated or out-of-the-ordinary request, I should think. What I recieved was a barely identifiable piece of shoe leather grilled to within an inch of its life, then beaten the rest of the way with a baseball bat. I alerted the waitress to this fact, and she apologetically took away the wretched cruelty that I had been served. To my shock and chagrin, she returned in short order with THE VERY SAME PIECE OF "STEAK", cut into small pieces and spread all over the plate by the "chef", and informed me that he had said that there is always some "variation" in steak temperatures, and a perfect med. rare could be neither expected nor acheived. Needles to say I was taken aback by this brash and unexpected move. I quickly composed myself and replied that he had not even come remotely close to the mark, and that the meal in front of me was simply unacceptable. She again apologized and ran back into the kitchen with the sorry-looking mess. Shortly after, a loud string of obscenities could be heard across the dining room, emanating from the "kitchen". At this point, having been served a ruined steak TWICE, taken for a fool, insulted, and finally cursed out, I l stood up, paid for my drinks, and walked out.
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