Next up – Italian delight.
Ok. This may get weird, so I’m going to say up front that the food is amazing. This place is, as the kids say, on fleek.
THIS JUST IN, RYAN WILL NEVER SAY “ON FLEEK” EVERY AGAIN. WE APOLOGIZE.
It’s really, really, really tasty.
And I’m going to just go ahead and apologize for the bitching I’m about to partake in.
Now that we got that out of the way, let’s talk about logistics and line systems.
Because this place has not.
If you like to stand in line for 20 minutes, not moving, while you look at about 12 open tables, this place is for you.
This is the kind of place where you wait in line and order first, then sit down. That’s cool, lots of places do this. But, this is also a place where there’s only one cash register. So people that order carryout will walk past the line, and check out there – causing you to wait even longer. It’s very inefficient.
Not to be one for just complaining, here are some thoughts:
- Add a carry out register that the pizza maker would use, freeing up the line from interruptions.
- Throw breadsticks at my face as I space out from waiting.
- Close the door by the line.
- Hire Mercury – the patron god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence (and thus poetry), messages/communication.
- Go during the weekday and not Friday or Saturday night.
Oh, and let’s talk tipping at these types of places. You don’t have a waiter, you have food runners. And they put a tip line on the receipt. So what’s the tipping best practices for this? I’m asking because I don’t know. My brain says don’t tip because, well, no waiter. But I also don’t want to screw anyone over. It’s very confusing. And I hate it.
Come on guys. Your people invented roads. Fucking ROADS.
They need to figure that shit out.
It’s my least favorite place in KC to order.
And it’s also decorated in the owner’s Ducati collectables. So there’s that.
But then your food is placed in front of you.
And it changes everything.
That is Rigatoni ala Vodka. And shit got me drunk on flavor. It was as if Jupiter himself flew down from the heavens and blessed this pasta to be bomb-ass delicious. (Notice my use of the Roman Pantheon rather than the more popular Greek. You’re welcome, Italy).
Because I was destined to feast at Roman banquet halls, I ordered sausage and peppers as my side.
It tasted of olive oil and pure happiness like you used to feel before life was all, “WORRY ABOUT TAXES AND ROGUE BEAR ATTACKS.”
Speaking about shit you used to worry about, who here remembers acid rain? That was something I was VERY concerned about as a kid. Haven’t heard shit about it since. Thanks for all the sleepless nights, news.
My buddy Bryan was with me as well. Which just goes to show you that this places food makes up for their shit line system. But, much like a toxic relationship, we keep coming back for our delicious carbs.
He ordered a calzone.
Which looks like it’s last words were, “Et tu, Brute?” To which Bryan responded, “Me too, tasty calzone.” after stabbing it with a fork. Long live the republic.
So if anyone from Italian Delight reads this, look, I’m sorry to complain. I do it because I love you guys. Your food is perfect. You don’t need to change a damn thing about your product. Just help me decrease the time I need to wait to stuff my face full of it. That’s all I’m asking.
Here’s how I would rate it.
6522 Martway St, Mission, KS 66202