Image by lucianvenutian via Flickr
I was in Adrian, Michigan for work earlier this week. About lunch time, the IT guy suggested we go to a little, out of the way taqueria that he insisted makes the best tamales. If that's the house specialty, I should have known enough to go with the recommendation, but when the IT guy ordered burritos, I followed his lead. I can honestly say, it was the single worst meal I have ever had in my entire life (and look at me, I've had a lot of meals.)
To truly understand the catastrophe that was this meal, let me start from the beginning:
Adrian isn't a gigantic metropolis, but it's not a hillbilly town either. I thought I was in for a treat when we started rolling through a rough part of town and noticed signs on storefronts written in Spanish. This wasn't going to be some Chili's or On the Border or something, I thought, this will be authentic. I was right on one account, it didn't taste anything like Chili's or On the Border, those places actually have good food.
So the IT guy pulled into the parking lot of one of those 24-hour, do-it-yourself car wash ...