The Best In Town

Gwynyth had a special breakfast this morning. She was selected from her class to attend a "Character Breakfast" as a special prize for (I guess) being some kind of character.
Anyway, she wanted to celebrate last night by going out for dinner.
She selected Mexican food as her cuisine of preference, and I suggested we visit a little local dive called "Macarena".
I clearly stated, as part of my suggestion, that Macarena was the best Mexican food in town.
Note: I did not at any time say it was "good". Or even, to be fair, edible.
It is nonetheless "the best Mexican food Columbia, South Carolina has to offer."
The menu choices were, I'll admit, odd.
And the salsa was frozen.
Not "from a mix" frozen, but still frozen in the container and difficult to pour.
And Shana's selection, some kind of enchilada dish, was far from what she expected.

"Cucumbers? Why are there cucumbers all over my enchiladas?"

"Those are Mexican cucumbers."

"Why would they cover flavorless Mexican food in a layer of flavorless vegetables?"

"Nachos kick ass."

"I hate you."

Our meal was followed with a proclamation from Shana that we would never be eating Mexican food again. I've known that for months, though, so I was neither shocked nor offended.
When confronted with a city filled with various states of bad Mexican food, one can either completely give up or settle on a level of Mexican food which does not make one too nauseous.
I choose the latter since, as I have stated on numerous occasions, "nachos rule."
In conclusion, when someone promises "The Best" of anything, it is as likely a condemnation of the state of that thing as it is a recommendation of the promised selection.
At least it is when I refer to something as "The Best".