I have never made my penchant for Domino's Pizza a secret, despite the ridicule and scoldings I would surely be subjected to following disclosure of that fact. Some would say it is cookie-cutter crap - as dull and unpalatable as Delissio, the frozen convenience variety. While I admit that the latter is more welcome in the trash can than my mouth, I salivate at the mere thought of Domino's Pizza. So, I lazily offer this familiar platitude as my defense: there's no accounting for taste.
This past Saturday, my boyfriend and I had a dreadful experience at Thai One On on Queen West, where we dined on Pad Thai that was soaked in about two liters worth of ketchup and a serving of chicken satay that was so dry it required the jaws of a hyena to masticate. Hunger be damned, we were so disgusted by the offerings that we fled (thoroughly screwed, of course, considering we paid for food that we didn't couldn't eat).
Tired, frustrated and eager to be fed, we opted for delivery pizza. Guess who we called?
