Luigi DeNunzio

Hey Luigi.

Yeah, YOU, asshat.

Barbara had her say.  Jerry had his, too.  And, as you know from the email he sent you personally, Harrison gave you an opportunity to explain your sorry self to which you, predictably, ignored.

It’s MY turn, now.  Notice how I titled this page with your name?  That’s for easy searches on the Internet you greedy douchebag.  It’s not going anywhere, either.

See, on Thursday, August 21, 2008 we were patrons at your restaurant called Luigi’s Grotto.  Nice place – let me rephrase that, nice architecture.  Not by your own design of course, the ambiance was purely a function of it being a remnant of old Seattle, MY home town.  Not yours.  But that’s not the point.

We arrived in a party of 7, four adults and 3 children.  You served us room temperature water in used up old wine bottles and gave the kids cans of orange soda.  CANS.  Cheap bastard.  Then you served us salad with balsamic vinegar which, we would soon find out, was about the only flavor you used in your pathetic kitchen.  Garlic bread for the 6 who weren’t vegan, and a lame hunk of what I’m going to call French bread with the blandest non-virgin olive oil seasoned with stale red chili peppers and salt for me.

Let me just state here that you were a jerk for not serving meat to our non-vegetarian guests.  You didn’t even offer but now I see that you were probably wetting your adult diapers over not having to blow the near pull-date meat on lunch, you could now charge double for the dinner crowd that you prayed would materialize.  Anyway…

Next came the most unpalatable perciatelli crapola that any decent, reputable chef would have been ashamed to have leave their kitchen… mushy eggplant, canned tomatoes, undercooked broccoli, and zucchini that was probably procured by dumpster diving all tossed together with the panache of a Taco Bell employee on quaaludes.

And the wine.  Oh, the wine.  I ordered a white, Jerry & Harrison the red.  What the hell was that you served us Luigi?  We’d never know, but I assure you it wasn’t anything a sommelier with a trade school education would recommend.  It wouldn’t even pass as a substitute for cooking sherry at The Olive Garden.

You, the most dishonorable Luigi, then came around with cocktail onions drenched in, go figure, balsamic vinegar.  Do you leave the dish at the table?  No.  You serve us 4-6 per plate and disappear again into what is undoubtedly your little pantry of horrors to whip up a miniature 5-inch pizza sliced into 4 pieces.  Four pieces.  For 7 people.  What the hell, fail geometry there buddy?  For dessert you serve everyone, including me after verifying my dietary restrictions, chocolate ice cream for which I’m sure you got cut-rate from some family member who couldn’t pass their Food Handler’s Permit examination.

But, and here’s the kicker – you charged us $237 for shitty food we never ordered.  You dodged every attempt on Harrison’s part to get a menu.  You add a roughly 20% gratuity to, what, feed your guests leftovers and warm water?  You would have made Seattle look really fucking bad to our guests from Calgary if it hadn’t been for the fact that they already fell in love with our fair city, no fucking thanks to you, your pestilence, and whatever motivates you to keep those back room “washing” machines going.

You, Luigi DeNunzio, are a bonafide FRAUD and infectious scab on Pioneer Square.

I don’t know what exactly you pride yourself on but I can tell you for sure it’s not ethics or good taste or self-respect.  You’re a second-class citizen serving fourth-class food.  You shame Italian-Americans with your charlatan practice of pretending to know how to cook food from your native country with dollar signs, not the passion, in your eyes.  You, Luigi DeNunzio, are a soulless, crapulent, revolting, piece of garbage that makes the dogshit on the bottom of your shoes look good.  Your swinish gluttony for money is obviously what drives you and for that I spit in your face and deface your image.

I’m sure you don’t believe in karma but I do.  And with that, I hope it finds you with godspeed you deceitful, repulsive, fetid criminal.

I’d invite your defense, but you have none.  Serve your sour grapes to your toxic, spyware infested seattleitalia site that not even Google will touch.

Sincerely hoping you get what you deserve, Michelle