Gialina: Good pizza deserves a second chanceBy Sarah C. Jimenez
Back to the pizza place. It was inevitable, I know. The place that last month my novia and I had a fit in and walked out of after not getting service—not getting a simple greeting after 10 minutes. We, the brown lesbianas in the corner, watched as the perfect white couple who came in long after us sipped their Peronis contently, while we were still hoping to maybe get waters. Our usual efficient and jovial server who, in the past, has always delivered pristine service, had been replaced with…well, no server at all. We’d been crushed that our favorite pizza place had not only blatantly offended us, but shattered our much anticipated pizza fantasies we’d toyed with all day.
The return to Oz started with a middle of the day phone-call while banging away at my computer like Schroeder at his piano, trying to meet a deadline: “Dinner tonight…. Tickets to Wicked…. Call in sick to work?” my girlfriend had pleaded. Giving up a $200 bar shift was not hard. Getting glammed-up for theater was not hard. Going to dinner back at the place where we’d last left with nothing but our stubborn dignity was.
Being pampered with 20 percent service, we were left with no other option but to surrender, and enjoy what I’d previous – and once again – deemed the best pizza in the city. Indeed, it was surreal; as if we were the table the restaurant had been waiting for to show off all of its eminent marvels: peppery, crisp arrugula salad tossed with feta, chunky beets and lightly sweetened figs; wild nettles atop a pizza with pancetta and aged provolone; a four cheese pizza that tasted…exactly like a four cheese pizza. Fresh brewed coffee was poured all around, after the bottle of sangiovese—full bodied with currants and ripe cherries—dwindled down, amidst hearty conversation. And of course, never one to skip dessert, we were served a “chocolate pizza” doused with Nuttela, generous dollops of mascarpone, and finely chopped nuts.
And now, in front of my computer once again with my purring cat cuddled on my lap, I think back on tonight, insomniac-ridden as usual. Aside recalling Wicked thoughts that ravage through my mind, I find myself pondering the true meaning of second chances. When I was a kid, my older sis told me that stapling my fingers together didn’t hurt, and in fact tickled. After learning differently, I (eventually) forgave her. So I suppose anyone or any place that’s made mistakes but truly is charming—or has thin-crust dough—is worthy of forgiveness.
Gialina Pizzeria
Hours: Mon.—Thurs., 5 p.m.—10 p.m.; Fri.—Sat., 5 p.m—10:30 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m.—10p.m.
2842 Diamond, SF
(415) 239-8500
digg •
del.icio.us •
sphere •
google
•
Comments (4)
Instead of leaving in a huff and whining about it in print, why didn't you ask to speak to the manager about the bad service you were getting (or not getting)?????? That would've fixed your problem right away, and maybe even gotten you a free glass of wine for your trouble (instead of the whine you seemed to want to have instead).
I've never had anything but great service at Gialina even when they're slammed with take out orders and the wait for a table is 45 minutes. Maybe they were having a bad day.
Posted by Mike Friedman | November 2, 2009 03:23 PM
I'm with Mike. If you have an issue, let someone know. It doesn't pay to assume that the restaurant management/owner knows how the service is going every moment of every shift.
While you're not making assumptions, might as well *not* assume you were made to wait 10 minutes because you're brown/gay...in SF, this is rather farfetched (we are majority non-white, kind of a gay mecca, etc.). And before you get pissed, I do say that as a brown non-straight lady, though it shouldn't matter. Hey, maybe you were having a low-blood sugar-induced fit of pique? I've had my share of those.
I must add that my experience of the food at Gialina's has been out-of-this-world, phenomenal. The service has been spot on, too.
Posted by shasha | November 2, 2009 06:51 PM
And to the best of my knowledge, the owner is dating a brown lesbian. Hard to believe you were discriminated against. Sounds like an honest mistake.
Posted by Amanda | November 3, 2009 09:59 AM
Hey guys,
I see I struck a chord with people! Sorry if other people have a hard time accepting that this was my true experience from such a great pizza place, but it was. As a writer, I feel entitled not to candy-coat the truth about real people's experiences. For the record, I did complain to staff, but the damage was done, and my partner and I did not want to stay. And yes, it was obvious that they were having an off day--which affected me too!
I know discrimination is a sensitive topic for everyone. Instead of pointing fingers and denying the truths of people's experiences, maybe we should open dialogue about it: How can we as a community be more concious? Why are people treated differently in servers' eyes when we sit down at a table?
My experience was blatant discrimination however you want to put it. I do not doubt the owner is queer-friendly at all. But the fact of the matter is that as open-minded as San Francisco claims to be, discrimination still exists. 'Whine' back at me for telling the truth all you want, Mike Friedman, but if you're not a person being constantly discriminated against, then you could never understand; the way I could probaly never understand what sounds like your blind privilege you stand with in our society.
The point of this article was that I gave my favorite pizza place a second chance becuase normally they are always so good and delivered, but not this time.
And as a writer, I don't feel I should be apologetic for writing that truth.
Posted by Sarah | November 5, 2009 11:16 AM