This is the one you've been waiting for..
I have been tip toeing around the great Vincenzo's Pizzeria on Yelp for several months now assessing and reassessing how to approach this review. Undoubtedly, as my premier choice for fast food, Vincenzo's review required patience so that you, the hungry peasant, could fully appreciate the glorious experience of which I suck in from every orifice at every opportunity. This is not just Italian food for the unworthy, this is the body of christ from the Vaticans' fast food division that we must pay homage to with our unfaltering, obedience and consistent readmission. Make no mistake, this is the greatest food in the entire world..
An almost V.I.P. style entrance transforms the atmosphere from a grimy Thomas Street into an Italian circus of activity. A simple slot machine positioned just at the door deters unworthy simple minded folk from proceeding while an arrogant potato-like delivery driver guards the entrance to the main food processing area.. Obviously there are some social obstacles one must overcome before bearing witness to this god-like cuisine.
In the distance, an enormous Italian giant pierces daggers through my chest with his gaze. Although he remains silent, it is clear who is really in charge despite popular belief. I look down to the decoy commander, Miss Muffet smiles back with promising eyes. Lets not hesitate. I order 3 terribly under priced one euro slices, garlic dip, and a soda, orange.
I wait on the edge of my seat, heart racing with anticipation, eyes almost watering as the food slowly cooks and the shear smell of it sets off an explosion in my lower half. I'm sweating, twitching, gasping as I catch a glimpse of the first 'hot' n 'spicy' peer its teet through the oven in my direction.
The aroma of mozzarella and freshly baked bread fills the area with an alluring scent but nothing can keep me sitting in my seat when I know what is just over the brow of Mr. Potatoe's potato head which dribbles cheese and onion aftershave.
At last! I snatch the boxes almost forgetting my garlic dip as I dash out the door towards the comfort of NCAD- an artistic college that can appreciate such culinary art. Diving head first into my long awaited pizza, my hands seemed like a slow moving obstacle at the stage. Undiscouraged by the public screams of horror, somehow still not used to this daily occurrence, I plow through that hot 'n' spicy beast. Jalapenos grown in the depths of vatican hell, mozzarella made from cows angels, Pork & Sauce (c) worryingly tender and flavorsome so much so that I doubted any pig or tomato could have been good enough for the mortal delight.
Level two, A pepperoni I would have traded my own mother for, Level 3, a motherfucking vegetarian. Yes a vegetarian, although usually the cowards choice, this particular vegy gave me something of a remission in my opinions towards herbivores. I find that vegetarian food needs to be done well as it is more reliant on the variety of texture than the full whack of flavor that say a slab of steak brings with it. However, Vincenzo is a man(allegedly) who has married in both texture and flavor which does not fail to deliver ultimate satisfaction.
I fucking gargled the last of the garlic dip and rubbed it into my eyes so that I may have a chance of prolonging the flavor for as long as possible.
And of course, a traditional orange soda sweeps away any residue down the aul vocal shnozzer.
I look up at the crowd, soaking wet with satisfaction. My tongue is going 90 slobbering up the last crumbs. Its over, The crowd disperses and I pass out. Until tomorrow. We wait.
Buy their fucking food! read more