Vespa

Those who know me, know that I am a lover of Italian cuisine. That when I find a place that does it right (Stock, Rosso…) I am in raptures. And when I find a place that disappoints, I am kiiiinda pissed off. Vespa, then, kiiiinda pisses me off. Why? Because of that maxin that I trot out all the time: Italian food is not hard to get right. Yes, of course, I understand that a lot of Italian dishes are complex and take real talent to make. However, what I am talking about here is the bog-​standard Italian grub that restaurants churn out and get wrong more often than is decent. If you’re an Italian restaurant, and you’re serving nought but starters, pizzas and pastas, and you can’t get that right; you need to seriously reconsider your career choices.
Phew, sorry, bit of a rant there, I just get very annoyed when people open restaurants and then serve substandard shebang. And so to Vespa, a recently opened Italian in Withington. I watched it being refurbed and opened and whathaveyou while I lived nearby… but I can’t remember what it used to be. No matter, we are talking about the disappointment that is Vespa.
Starting right from the off; the décor here is truly dreadful. It’s a soulless pastiche of a 1950s diner, with slight Italian touches here and there. Instead of looking like a nice little brasserie, or a funky diner, however, it just looks cold and sterile and try-​hard. When Tiny Friend and I visited last week, on a Friday evening, no less, there was no music playing, and maybe four other customers. Cue absolutely zero atmosphere, then.
The food was very blah. The pizza, though massive, had a soggy base, a bland tomato sauce and the cheese tasted cheap. Fair enough, we weren’t paying top dollar, but I would have been disappointed at this pizza if I bought it at 2am from a kebab shop. Tiny Friend was tres unimpressed, but I did manage to calm her down with a bowl of decent olives and a promise of ice cream. Only, when we ordered dessert, they were out of chocolate ice cream, which angered Tiny Friend more. On finishing our pints of Hoegaarden (very, erm, Italian…) I had to take her to Fuel to cease her ranting. She is still annoyed at me for taking her to Vespa, and I am still annoyed that I went. I won’t be returning again any time soon, and I’d advise you to steer clear as well. If you want a pizza that badly, get a takeaway. It’ll cost you less, and you won’t be left feeling angry and cheated.