"I'm already annoyed. It's never good when I start out annoyed."
And so begins our inexplicable drama with the staff of Pizzeria Bianco.
After a hearty and heartening meal at Matt's Big Breakfast, we wander through the streets of downtown Phoenix in search of John T. Edge's Best Thing I Ever Ate Rosa PIZZA at Pizzeria Bianco.
|There's New York Pizza, There's Chicago Pizza, and There's... Phoenix Pizza?|
Apparently, such sign-in practices are NOT, as Vodka had assumed, a Phoenix policy. At least, that's what the waiter who scolded her said.
Obediently dropping the pen, Vodka waits for the actual hostess to appear and then learns that it will be thirty to forty minutes for a table.
"Can we eat outside?" Vodka asks, pointing at the vacant tables just outside the front door.
"We don't serve out there," the hostess states. Accepting our fate, Vodka retreats outside and explains the situation to Ginger and our friend, who suggest that we ask for a pizza to-go and consume it on this lovely, shady picnic table.
This plan, too, is not allowed by the school marm-ish hostess.
And now, Vodka is annoyed.
|So Then What, Exactly, Are All of These Tables For?!|
|Looking at Citrus Trees Like People Who Have Never Seen the Ocean|
|Minus 10 Stars for Making No Sense, Pizzeria Bianco|
|See How Many People Are Waiting For Us? Yeah - Exactly|
|Arizona is the Place to Live If You Want to Fit Full Wardrobes in Your Bathroom|
And now our friend is annoyed, too.
|So This Pizza Better Be the Best Thing We Ever Ate to Make Up For All of This Nonsense|
And this is the moment at which Ginger returns from the bathroom, thoroughly confused by the scowls on both of our faces.
Eventually, we receive both our wine and our glasses of water (which Vodka only had to ask for, oh, three times). But you know what we do not receive? Bread. You know what everyone else seated at the bar has received? A basket of bread.
"I don't even want the bread," Vodka says, referring to our Matt's Big Breakfast-induced fullness. "But it's the principle of the thing."
And now, everyone is annoyed: Vodka and our friend are irritated by the bartender, waiter, and hostess, and Ginger is perturbed by the fact that she still doesn't quite understand what is going on.
For the record, this is not the best mentality with which to consume a pizza.
|But It Is Great Motivation for Tossing Certain Waitstaff Towards the Pizza Oven|
"And scorpions," our friend offers helpfully, causing both of us to lift our toes up slightly higher on our barstools.
|Death by Desert|
|You're Currently Batting in the Negative Zone, Buddy|
|Nuts and Onions Everywhere and Not a Drop of Cheese|
|And PS Why Are All of the Toppings Hovering at the Tips of the Slices?|
|But All the Texture in the World Can't Bring "Taste"|
|Why, in a "Nutshell," Phoenix is Not Known for Its Pizza|
"Bread," the still-bitter Vodka retorts, once again eying the neighboring bread basket.
By the end of our "lunch" (let's be real -- we don't really let "meal times" hinder our eating schedule), we're fairly certain that the staff of Pizzeria Bianco finds us just as aggravating as we find them (and not just because we keep speaking loudly about how dusty their overhead beams are).
|Ever Hear of Some Endust?!|
|Sad That We Preferred This Duo of Slices, Huh?|
Pizzeria Bianco's Rosa Pizza: 3 stars