YUCK!!! You know those days in Los Angeles where you feel a bit adventurous? You think you might just let another restaurant slip their menu in the file, and you go out on a whim? This was the culinary equivalent of a hitchhiker you pick up in the middle of South Dakota. You think that maybe you'll be able to trust them, and they'll have some good conversation to offer, and they end up stealing your kidneys. I know- the story is as old as time. Sammy's not only took more than an hour to deliver, they failed to store any of the credit card information I read them over the phone, and made one of my co-workers foot the bill when I was out! Three out of the four patrons ordered ""salad,"" which I leave in quotations, as it was a post-nuclear fallout of Iceberg coupled with the occasional wilted purple cabbage. Bland, tasteless chicken and sparse shrimp topped our sad salads, and the intermittent sliced tomato lined the Styrofoam box. The only redeeming value to my entire salad was the peanut dressing, which made it possible to gag down the meal, as I knew it would be my only one for a while.
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