Pizza Hatt

Well then, it came down to that familiar argument again. Domino’s or Pizza Hut. Fancy the pizza icons of the hegemonistic Yank nation to be causing considerable unrest in a normal middle class family, which until not so long ago was living peacefully with its quintessentially Indian Dal-Roti.

And then this, they came, they were eaten, and we were addicted. But when the addiction leads to arguments most likely to end in a sword fight, “addiction” takes on a completely different meaning.

I really didn’t care two hoots about Domino’s until not very long back. I despised their “stores” – as they call them. There were just two tables and four chairs. Large (or small) enough for a couple of pygmies from the heart of the equatorial rain forests to rest themselves on – I am sure even they would not appreciate the feeling in the back side when the wrought iron chairs keep poking in, they just refuse to grant any semblance of comfort. Pygmies I said, and we’re a huge Sindhi family (no – we’re just four, but three of us are HUGE). The fear of watching their furniture collapse under my weight (its happened to me before, promise – albeit with plastic furniture) kept me away from those “stores” – I didn’t want to end up spending a month’s salary, running up furniture bills, on a single pizza outing you know, they’re bloody expensive anyway.

One fine day, I just bumped and bounced into a Domino’s store, utterly bored to tears of everything else in the vicinity. (Err, I eat out 14 times a week, by choice of course :D) No plates, no glasses, no water, heck no AC! They give you the pizza in a cardboard box (umm, ever thought how cardboard tastes, entirely swathed and dripping with mozzarella) The bill, oh that’s a sticker they put on to the box. Talk of cost cutting. And then the pizza, bliss! Think of an unadulterated pizza experience, this is it! No frills, just pizza.

It reminds me of that million-dollar behemoth we know as an F1 car. There’re no doors, windows, or air-conditioner. Heck, not even a cup holder! It sucks fuel (super premium unleaded very low sulphur "green" fuel, if I may add) by the gallon, and by the seconds. The seat is nowhere near to what the nerves in the backside would recognize as comfortable. The suspension is so stiff, it’d pulverize your back before you can say “spinal cord”. And yet, it’s the pinnacle of the subliminally supreme driving experience. No frills, just driving.

Think of a Maybach on the other hand. Its got power windows, power steering and power everything. Its got every creature comfort in the world you can imagine. From refrigerators to loo’s, everything’s in there. Its even got a funny name for a weird roof that does bizarre things. Sample this – “Webasto’s design gives Maybach passengers control over light intensity. It allows the sun to shine clearly through the panorama roof or with the touch of a button, diffuses the light, making the roof opaque and allowing only 76 percent daylight into the car.” Haah, why would anyone need THAT?? Bored of all of it then?

Bored of the stupid dances the Pizza Hut waiters (can I call them that, eh Yanks?) perform for the audience as the clock strikes 8:00pm? Bored of the yummy photographs on the menu card, and their mighty chalk-and-cheese difference with the actual pizza? Bored of ringing the bell, and hearing a few hundred Pizza Hut employees shout “Thank you” like a collective moan that reminds you of horror movie soundtracks? Well, head to the nearest Domino’s outlet for that ultimate, unalloyed pizza experience. Ok, you won’t get any plates, or forks, or spoons, and trust me you’ll get water if you ask for it (in a plastic glass) but rest assured, when the melting cheese drips out of the sandwiched crust and smears your fingers, you’ll feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven!