Ten San Antonio restaurants where your stomach signs a liability waiver
Let’s go on a journey through the San Antonio’s finest disasters masquerading as restaurants.
Crazy Mama Luigi’s Authentic* Italian Kitchenette
(*Authentic if you’ve never been to Italy, met an Italian, or eaten food)
Run by Gary Smith from Wisconsin, who once watched “The Godfather” and decided he was qualified to open an Italian restaurant. The pasta is so overcooked it has achieved sentience and is currently organizing a labor union. The “house wine” comes from a box labeled “Grape-ish Beverage,” and the garlic bread could double as military-grade body armor. The parking lot is actually a crater from a meteor strike, but Gary calls it “rustic charm.”
El Sombrero Triste (The Sad Hat)
A Mexican restaurant where dreams and proper food handling procedures go to die. The owner, Chuck, decorated the place entirely with items from a yard sale held by a Spirit Halloween store. The salsa is just ketchup that’s been left in the sun, and the guacamole has the consistency of cement. Their signature dish is “Tacos Misteriosos” – mysterious because even the chef doesn’t know what’s in them. The health inspector took one look and immediately retired.
Dragon’s Breath Asian Fusion
Less a fusion of Asian cuisines and more a fusion of whatever was on sale at Costco. The owner, Barbara, spent three days in Bangkok in 1987 and hasn’t stopped talking about it since. The sushi rolls come with a complementary prayer card, and the “wasabi” is just green Play-Doh. The fortune cookies contain actual tax advice written by Barbara’s cousin who “knows a guy.”
Le Pretentieux
A French restaurant where the waiters are required to maintain fake French accents even though they’re all from Lubbock. The menu is entirely in Comic Sans, and the escargot is actually garden slugs collected from the owner’s backyard. They charge $15 for tap water served in a “crystal” glass from Dollar Tree, and the wine list is just different temperatures of the same boxed wine.
Big Earl’s BBQ Emporium & Tax Services
Big Earl believes in efficiency, so you can get your brisket and taxes done in one stop. The smoke flavor comes from burning old tax returns, and the secret sauce is suspiciously similar to printer ink. The waiting area features inspirational posters of meat alongside IRS audit warnings. The bathroom code is your social security number.
The Quantum Café
A molecular gastronomy restaurant run by a failed physics teacher. Every dish comes with a 30-minute lecture about particle physics. The food either arrives completely frozen or literally on fire – there is no in-between. The menu changes based on Schrödinger’s weekly grocery runs, and all prices are calculated using quantum mechanics formulas.
Ye Olde Robinhood Days
A medieval-themed restaurant where the staff clearly hates their lives. The serving wenches are all named Karen and refuse to stay in character. The “authentic” medieval feast is just microwave dinners served on plastic shields, and the jousting show features two interns on Segways hitting each other with pool noodles.
Sushi Roulette
A conveyor belt sushi place where the belt frequently malfunctions, sending California rolls flying across the room like tasty projectiles. The fish is so old it qualifies for social security benefits. The wasabi roulette special features one real wasabi blob among the fake ones – winners get their stomach pumped for free.
The Hipster Pickle
A farm-to-table concept restaurant where everything is pickled, including the silverware somehow. The bearded staff all claim to be “pickle artisans” despite having started pickling last Tuesday. Water is served in mason jars that are deliberately cracked for “authenticity,” and the menu is written in unnecessarily complicated cursive on artisanal bark.
Grandma’s Basement
A comfort food restaurant designed to replicate eating in your grandmother’s basement, complete with 1970s wood paneling and plastic-covered furniture. The food is deliberately overcooked to maintain authenticity, and all servers are required to pinch your cheeks and tell you you’re too skinny. The owner insists she’s everyone’s actual grandmother despite being 23 years old.
