Can’t say I wasn’t warned…
We’ve ordered pizza from La Pizzeria in Mt. Pleasant a few times, it’s good, not great, but an easy solution to dinner some nights.
After a great visit with relatives over the Thanksgiving holidays we decided that we were done with turkey and want to get a quick bite to eat – why, La Pizzeria, of course.
The menu is varied and they offer nightly specials. Eddie suggested the seafood risotto which I opted for versus the Veal Marsala. Not the best choice. My husband ordered the Osso Bucco ravioli, which he has had before and it did not disappoint.
When my risotto was delivered I asked Eddie for some grated parmesan cheese. He harangued me about my request. He actually said that the owner would be “insulted” if he gave it to me. I said, “What about personal preference?” He begrudgingly brought it to me.
Unfortunetly the risotto, to me, was very under cooked. When Eddie stopped by I merely suggested that he might not recommend it to others. He asked me if I wanted something else, and I declined.
As we began to eat our meal the owner appeared out of nowhere crouched down next to our table. If ever there was an “in your face moment”, this was it. She was about an eyelash away from me.
I’ve worked my entire career in a very male dominated industry. I consider myself somewhat of a tough cookie. There’s not much that rattles me or gets under my skin. I am invigorated by a challenge and have been calm in many a tough confrontation. But the fact that the owner was so in my face questioning me about not whole-heartedly enjoying my dinner, intimidated the heck out of me and I found myself not saying but a few words.
“This is how we cook it in Italy,” she explained. By now I felt the stares of the other patrons upon me. “I’m OK”, I said. “If you’d like me to take it back to the kitchen and put it back in the pan and cook it again, I can.” She added. “But this is how we cook it in Italy.” Undercooked, I contemplated?
I humbly moved my risotto around my plate picking out some of the seafood, but avoiding the rest. It was bad. I don’t think I even looked up from the table for fear of another one on one with the owner. We never saw Eddie again. He probably got the crap kicked out of him from bringing me the grated cheese.
Having been a part owner of a restaurant chain I understand the pride you have in your products and establishment, but what happened to the customer always being right?
I gave La Pizzeria 3 Plates out of a possible 5.