I was lookin forward to the new "Italian" Sandwich shop opening up in the Yonge St. neighbourhood as the new lunch hour spot for BFF and I. We had some toothpick samplers the other day and they were rather fine, quite tasty actually. But I like food on a stick, leaves you wanting more. Well shit, if it wasn't the total opposite when we showed up for a meatball sandwich this afternoon. First thing you see when you enter this humble abode is a massive painting with the word "MANGIA" written underneath an unrealistic heart. Ok, good step, I'm feelin the painting. After six minutes of small talk and an exchange of a ten dollar bill, BFF and I walked out with what felt like a warm cinder block in a brown paper bag. Feelin' it, feelin' it, getting good.
But after a 2 minute walk to the piazza, shit was weighing me down. We tore open the bags to big-ass, messy, undesirable, artery clogging sandwiches. Fuck that. We dealt with it as best we could, but had to leave the rest for a homeless dude who might've hit up the trash can a little later. But to no avail, the piazza birds made their move to our enjoyment. Not sure if I will be visiting this place again. Maybe on a hungover Friday. Glad we got to feed some birds though.