Tonight I found a foreign object in my food. A plastic marker for indicating doneness of meat somehow became wrapped in my chicken quesadilla. The management was apologetic and did not charge me for it, but this was Burnt wood's last strike. On previous visits we have had them attempt to seat us in the bar (with our 12 year old daughter) despite our making a reservation, lackluster service, and valets with attitude. I really wanted to like Burntwood but they have made that impossible.