The worst meal I ever had.

In Fort Worth, Texas is a somewhere I can only describe as Hells Cantina. It described itself as a fine dining resturant. I had issues with all three of those words. Resturant brings to mind a fine italian or a little french bistro, a place run for the love of food, where the ingredients are painstakingly selected and cooked with the greatest of care. Fine dining indicates that this is the creme del la creme, the place where the other resturanturs in the area would gather and consume with awe, the dishes of a true culinary genius.

This was not such a place.

It was arranged much like a school cafeteria, replete with the over bearing tang of industrial strength disenfectant. The meals where served with all the care of a binman shedding a load of over-ripe nappies.

The gaucamole was a shade of green not seen since the great snot flu epedemic of 1956 and the nachos managed the almost unbeliveable feat of being both soft and rubbery at the same time.

The main course was a choice of Lumpy something in either brown or white sauce. When pressed upon the direct heritiage of the mystery item lurking in the depths of the trays, the Server sighed deeply and went to consult some higher being on the Fine Food dining ladder. He returned with the razor sharp insight;

'Marsha says it's meat."

Passing on the meat of mystery I moved straight onto the desert which turned out to be a pie constructed of a savoury crust and a sweet filling so nausaatingly sickly that your only choice was to wash each mouthful down with mug after mug of strong black coffee.

It was one of the worst meals of my life, the only thing that made it bearable was that my companion, who had after all, chosen the place, was equally appalled by the food. We laughed our way through the three courses left a mathmatically calculated tip down to the last cent (They hate it when you do that) and emerged blinking into the strong afternoon sun.

In fact if I hadn't kept a business card I put the whole thing down to some random halucination brought on by the Louisanna hotsauce I'd consumed the other night. If you ever find yourself in Fort Worth, Texas needing to wage biological warfare on some poor unsuspecting sod, take them to Furrs Fine Dining. It'll be a meal you'll never forget.