I guess that means I really haven't had bad CFS yet. And by bad, I mean completely mediocre – a TV-dinner-quality piece of gristly meat, with greasy, soggy breading and a bland, pasty glue of a gravy that I wouldn't even bother to take more than two bites of. I'm certain it will happen one day.
But today, here in New Braunfels, is not that day.
Brown and white food groups Red-checked tablecloth landscape Familiar comfort