I've never done it before. I've never been served anything inedible. And I don't want someone fucking with my food.

AnthonyVillalobos wrote:I was a chef at a Macaroni grill for a while and all I can say is, don't do this unless you like the taste of disease. Some of the shit I saw some chefs do there was pretty ruthless.

Yep. Having your food spat on is pretty tame. One Taco Bell in my hometown used to have an employee who shit in customers' frijoles when they sent their meal back. Once word got back to the health department, they closed down for all of one (1) day.

I just finish my meal. If it's really that fucking bad (which is almost never), I might complain and get a comp or dessert, but even then, life isn't over if they forgot to hold the cilantro and I just don't care enough to say anything.

The missus was taught by her family to send stuff back. I've had a hell of a time trying to deprogram her from that.

CRAP. Unless I've been brought something I didn't order, I'd never do this. In fact, I've never sent anything back before.

Rotten Tanx wrote:I think my salad would actually taste better if someone had rubbed their boobs on it.

This sentence is very, very funny! Salut, Tanx.

"Do you see this sign?"
When all else fails...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=6wtfNE4z6a8

If you go to Macaroni Grill and order something - there's a 50/50 chance your "Never-ending Bowl of Pasta" might come to your table not microwaved to your satisfaction. Perhaps you should send it back and have it heat-lamped a little more?

If you go to Taco Bell, the food has already be shit-and-spat-in to your satisfaction - so returning your fucking 7-layer burrito (with the guacamolito sauce) really shouldn't be necessary. Unless you'd like more shit?

I did this once that I can remember. Fried fish that was crispy on the outside and ice cold and translucent on the inside. It was pretty gross and obvious. I probably got something back that was gross but less obvious.

Most of the time people who do this don't like what they are eating despite proper preparation. I make a quick mental note to avoid going out with them anywhere again if at all possible. It's invariably an ominous sign that being in their company will bite you in the ass down the line.

This is CRAP.

tmidgett wrote:

*I can't eat anything with a substantial amount of onions in/on it, makes me ill. I always order things with "no onions".

My wife, too. But she will usually just scrape them off or pick them out. I mean, that's all the chef's gonna do, plus add some pubes or whatever.

Very true, and I do scrape them off usually. Its a problem when they're heavily mixed into something that it'd take me forever to pick out. Then I take my chances, as politely as possible.

joelb wrote:Most of the time people who do this don't like what they are eating despite proper preparation..

Yup. The missus' dad, who is primarily responsible for instilling in her the idea that anything less than Cordon Bleu should be sent back, is the same guy who once tried to send back food at Pizza Hut because the pizza they served him was too greasy.

Pizza. Hut.

If you wanted it cooked to your specifications, you should've stayed at home.

I have worked in restaurants and have had many friends who have worked in kitchens and I can personally vouch for what tmidgett said.

One of my friends was working in a bar kitchen during a very busy dinner rush. He was swamped with orders when some guy sent a steak sandwich back, claiming it "wasn't done enough". My friend plucked it off the plate with his bare hand and flung it onto the grill for a couple minutes until it was browned all the way through, then returned it to the customer. When the guy sent it back a second time, my friend got kind of pissed-off. He cursed the drunken bastard as he picked up the meat and threw it back on the grill for the 3rd time. After about 2 minutes, he removed it from the grill and chucked it into the deep-fryer, laughing all the while, then plucked it back out with some tongs and attempted to fling it back on the plate. He missed the plate entirely and the guy's dinner fell and skidded a few feet across the nasty kitchen floor. I'm sure the grease must have adhered some of the grit from the floor onto the surface of the meat, but my friend walked over and stepped on it just to make sure. He put the steak back on the bun and covered it with the other half, then put it up on the counter and rang the bell. We both stood by the kitchen door and watched as the guy took a big bite, then gave my friend the thumbs-up sign. It was all we could do to keep from laughing as we turned back into the kitchen.

Now I'm not saying what he did was right, but stuff like that does happen in commercial kitchens and at the time it seemed funny as hell.

Before you decide to send food back, take a moment and think about what you might be in for.