Pizza of my Discontent
If you ever find yourself in Houston, Texas, and in the mood for pizza, do yourself a favor and stay away from Pizza Venise at 3407 Montrose Blvd. Let me explain.
Up until this point, I thought I had found a pizza parlor not far from my apartment I can depend on for a cheap, halfway decent meal. But last night, the only things on the menu were lies and deception. You see, I called them up to order the 'one large, one topping for $5.99' deal. It's a thin crust, New York Style pie which, for the price, is not bad. I also asked for one extra topping making it sausage and extra cheese. You have to order extra cheese since they normally only sprinkle about three shreds of mozzarella per slice. Anyhow, I arrive at the store 15 minutes later and told the Asian guy at the counter I was there to pick up my order. Here's how the conversation went:
Sheepishly, I walk over to sit at a table, already beginning to despair. I'm not as resolute as I'd like to be in these situations. I noticed a bookrack with a sign taped on saying to take any of the literature home if you'd like. Interestingly, every book (all thin paperbacks with several duplicates of each) is on the subject of Buddhism. As it tuned out, the Asian guy who I was dealing with actually owns the shop and is originally from Vietnam. This also explains the entire wall painted with a passage by the Dali Lama. Wow. Pizza Venise, a Vietnamese-owned pizza parlor with free Buddhist literature and Dali Lama passages exquisitely painted on the walls.
About a minute later he came over and said he'd cook me a new pizza and asked if I could wait about seven minutes. This did little to assuage my concerns, but I accepted. When it was "done," he called me over to the counter to pay. He opened the box to show me a pizza strangely covered with some sort of crumbled sausage. It was obviously applied after the cheese had melted. What he said went as follows:
Guy: I'm trying out this new kind of sausage, but I don't know if people will like it. It smells really good!
Me: Really? Do you like it?
Guy: I don't know. I never tried it.
Me: Oh.
Guy: Tell me what you think, and if you don't like it, I'll switch back to the old kind.
Me: I liked the old kind.
Guy: Okay, I'll switch back!
It felt a little strange having just changed their sausage policy. I only wished I could have made my new law retroactive and apply it to my pizza, too.
Oh, well.
Knowing I was being rooked, and too hungry and tired to complain, I took it home and tried to eat it. And of course, all the sausage rolled off each slice as I picked it up. I guess I need a new pizza place.
Back to the drawing board.
Up until this point, I thought I had found a pizza parlor not far from my apartment I can depend on for a cheap, halfway decent meal. But last night, the only things on the menu were lies and deception. You see, I called them up to order the 'one large, one topping for $5.99' deal. It's a thin crust, New York Style pie which, for the price, is not bad. I also asked for one extra topping making it sausage and extra cheese. You have to order extra cheese since they normally only sprinkle about three shreds of mozzarella per slice. Anyhow, I arrive at the store 15 minutes later and told the Asian guy at the counter I was there to pick up my order. Here's how the conversation went:
Me: Hi, I'm here for the large sausage and
extra cheese.
Guy: I'm sorry?
Me: One large sausage and extra cheese...
Guy: No, I thought you say just extra
cheese.
Me: No, I ordered sausage, too.
Guy: Tell you what, I'll put sausage on your
pizza. Give me...three minutes.
Me: Uhhh, are you sure it'll be cooked?
Guy: (unintelligible)
Me: Okay.
Sheepishly, I walk over to sit at a table, already beginning to despair. I'm not as resolute as I'd like to be in these situations. I noticed a bookrack with a sign taped on saying to take any of the literature home if you'd like. Interestingly, every book (all thin paperbacks with several duplicates of each) is on the subject of Buddhism. As it tuned out, the Asian guy who I was dealing with actually owns the shop and is originally from Vietnam. This also explains the entire wall painted with a passage by the Dali Lama. Wow. Pizza Venise, a Vietnamese-owned pizza parlor with free Buddhist literature and Dali Lama passages exquisitely painted on the walls.
About a minute later he came over and said he'd cook me a new pizza and asked if I could wait about seven minutes. This did little to assuage my concerns, but I accepted. When it was "done," he called me over to the counter to pay. He opened the box to show me a pizza strangely covered with some sort of crumbled sausage. It was obviously applied after the cheese had melted. What he said went as follows:
Guy: I'm trying out this new kind of sausage, but I don't know if people will like it. It smells really good!
Me: Really? Do you like it?
Guy: I don't know. I never tried it.
Me: Oh.
Guy: Tell me what you think, and if you don't like it, I'll switch back to the old kind.
Me: I liked the old kind.
Guy: Okay, I'll switch back!
It felt a little strange having just changed their sausage policy. I only wished I could have made my new law retroactive and apply it to my pizza, too.
Oh, well.
Knowing I was being rooked, and too hungry and tired to complain, I took it home and tried to eat it. And of course, all the sausage rolled off each slice as I picked it up. I guess I need a new pizza place.
Back to the drawing board.
posted by Clint at Wednesday, April 13, 2005
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