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| - Once in a while, it's possible that a restaurant can have a bad night. Like going on your first date with spinach on your front tooth. But three nights in a row is not a fluke; it's an art.
My first night, I ordered their Brooklyn Spaghetti and meatballs. Had I been a Brooklyn wise-guy, somebody would be missing a knee-cap. They served it in a soup bowl, which was appropriate for the water in the bottom. The "garlic bread" was subbed with some kind of flat bread with garlic butter on it.
Service was minimal, and the waiter must have been on his first week of employment-- Anywhere.
So I gave them another chance the next night, and ordered a sizzling platter. Served with a Filthy handle cover, and a rusty, or dirty knife.
Third times a charm: Spaghetti again. Forgot the cheese. The white bread that was substituted for garlic toast, wasn't even toasted. The waiter said he was sorry, and he was right.
Cleanliness wasn't an option, or a concept known to them.
Suffice to say it had all the old world charm of Tijuana.
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