Sadly it was one of the most disappointing dining experiences in Charleston. After all the hype, the best part of the meal turned out to be the wine and the company, neither of which were made in house. I never thought I would be deciding what sucked the least at Charleston's "Best Restaurant." First off, whoever they hired to decorate that place should be fired. If Miss Saigon and Miami Vice had a really ugly baby... but I digress. Naturally Charleston's finest eatery should be serving up the town's finest handcrafted cocktails, am I right? I figured after waiting for about 20 minutes, that everything was handmade, and there was some guy back there blowing glass to make my drink. Sadly that was not the case, and thus began my journey into averagetown. Lacking distinction, each cocktail was served deliciously warm with a flavor that bordered between odd and amateur. I think the cooler full of mystery punch in college actually took more skill to make than these things.
Well who can blame them, in a place that serves food as legendary as this, can they really be expected to do everything right? Our waitress gave us a rousing tale of each vegetable they used, from it's birth as a little seedling to it's eventual death in my mouth. It was really quite touching. If the food was half as good as her description I probably would have foodgasmed. I bet you can guess what came next. If you guessed multiple courses of relatively bland food that failed on even basic culinary techniques (I mean seriously who puts chilled, wet salad on top of a once hot and crispy schnitzel?), and food that was plated by Mrs. Jones kindergarten class, then give yourself a fist bump. I could write another 10 pages on how craptastic the food was, but I can best sum it up in one simple image: