I'm still waiting to contract salmonella or bird flu from the warmed over, heat-lamp-lit, community-sized tubs o' food. Fortunately that has not happened yet.
All I could think about during my running race were dancing sausages and galloping bacon strips greeting me at the finish line. So of course that prompted me to desire unlimited amounts of each, which led us to Hometown Buffet. I wanted classy, so we went to the Hometown Buffet in Scottsdale. I dragged my friends here kicking and screaming.
The pancakes were disgusting and bland. Didn't have the French toast but it was visibly crusty and overcooked. Hash browns were ok. Orange juice was the worst watered down crap I have ever had. The eggs? I wouldn't even think of it.
The crowd and decor? Just what you would think. Large and in charge baby. And old too. Our weights and ages combined were about 200 pound lighter and 20 years younger than any other party there. With all due respect, our sweaty, race-weary table probably smelled the worst.
I knew what I was getting into, but I wanted unlimited bacon and sausage - which along with the fried chicken were good, btw. And there you have it.