4401 Tennyson Street
Denver CO 80212
Parisi and I have been "going together" since I first moved to the Denver. It was my first MOST FAVORITE PLACE EVER in this city and it has yet to let me down. Four score and seven years ago, or like 8 or 9 years ago it was a teeny hole in the wall that served a few sandwiches, salads and hot items. I fucking loved it. Tiny and perfect and the best prosciutto my mouth had ever known. A gorgeous and simple sandwich, the parma, was all I ever wanted in my life. Some prosciutto, a hint of oil, provolone cheese, and a touch of lettuce and tomato. It whispers to me from the menu, "I am fucking awesome. Eat the shit outta me." I was once asked the question that should I find myself on a deserted island what 5 things could I not live without. I answered this question as follows:
1) Prosciutto
2) Prosciutto
3) Prosciutto
4) Prosciutto
5) Prosciutto
Obviously, that is silly, because I will need to wash the prosciutto down with a little white wine spritzer and I'm gonna need some greens....but you get the point. Defuckinglicious.
I still visit Parisi at least once a month. It is so much more than just the house of the most elegant of sandwiches. It took me about five years but I was finally able to discover other items on the menu. The risotto is glamorous, the pizza divine and their specials are pretty spectacular as well. Their in-house market carries tons of frozen pastas and some $500 a pound prosciutto and delicious-looking overpriced seafood salad and risotto balls. I love anything that has been balled you know?
I cannot get enough of you Parisi.
Many years ago, I was at a snowstorm party, although in retrospect, it wasn't so much a storm as just snow. Anyway, I was sitting at the dining room table chatting to a friend of mine of what shall become of us when some gurl or womyny type sits down next to me and says, you are a cunt and you love being a cunt. You are a cunt who loves being a cunt. Obviously this young woman was inebriated on a grand scale, however, I think about that sometimes when I write what I am about to write. I probably am one, TO ANSWER YOUR RHETORICAL QUESTION, but I don't think I love being one. Sometimes I am ok with with it but I don't LOVE it. Mostly, I would say I tolerate being one - and obviously tolerate this girl which I guess decunts me a little. Shortly after exclaiming my cuntdom to the world, she tried to start a physical fight with a another girl, and ended up just lying in the snow and crying, so I wouldn't say this girl is an excellent judge of what is or what is not a cunt. Nonetheless, I feel guilty saying what I am about to say, so I just want YOU to know that if what I say sounds cunty to you, I don't mean to and I certainly don't LOVE being one.
Here is my issue with Parisi. You have to stand in a line in order to get a table, which is fine because I am usually ripping through a menu with my eyes trying to decide - should I get the parma or the risotto or what AAAAAACK!!!!? I am a total Cathy when it comes to this menu. Anyway, you order your food at a counter and you sit down, much like Luby's if Luby's was glamorous with gorgeous food. Although now that I think about it - you go through a food line at Luby's and plop your food on your plate so scratch that - this is NOTHING like Luby's but I love to say Luby's so there. Anyway, here is my problem with Parisi. I think the staff might be a little big for their britches, or maybe they just don't care about their clientele, but I went up to the counter to order myself a drink (after being seated obviously) NO ONE WOULD HELP ME. They saw my big face at the counter and ignored it. Several people who worked there, just stood around doing nothing. Like they couldn't be bothered because they were too busy not helping me. What the fuck is wrong with people? Why are you in he service industry if you cannot service this lady a beer? There is a reason I don't serve people, well there are a couple of reasons, I don't like serving people and I have no concept of time. But that is ok because I do something else with my time. So I am sorry Parisi but please get those teens behind the counter some in-i-tia-tive. Other than that I love you.
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