I ate at Big Pink last night with my kids. Despite an excellent Brazilian waitress, I was shocked by how bad so many things were. From the stench outside, which of course is probably not their fault, to the massive puddle, to the essence -- food unlike anything I have ever eaten there. The famous bucket of fries looked like a sea creature or La Sagrada in Barcelona; everything was stuck together, not crisp, and seemingly deep fried in a combination of oil and paste. The mammoth chicken sandwich had to have been microwaved; there was less brown present than a Mitt Romney campaign rally in Maine. My Thai salad had julienned iceberg lettuce like the displays at Publix and two sauces that mentioned Sri Racha but couldn't locate it with a GPS. At the tables nearby, the sawing I heard made me want to go buy a few shakers of Accent; the noise sounded like the kitchen of a Greek restaurant catering to the British budget tourist with scratching, clanging, and clawing. The water was cold though, and the ketchup came out. Myles Chefetz needs to take a look quick! I have always had a reasonable experience there, but this was horrific.