Last week Mark Kelley wrote one spicy meatball of a review of my restaurant. I just wanted to clear the air and give you all the facts before you decide not to eat here. First and foremost, we never claim to be the end all be all of Italian dining. It’s no Olive Garden or nothing, but it’s nice, like a hilariously large moustache.

There have also been some complaints with our music. Pasta fazule! I never thought I’d live to see the day where “too-loud” and “We Will Rock You” were in the same sentence. Unless it were, of course, “’We Will Rock You’ sure is not being played too loud.” Just because we’re Italian doesn’t mean we have to like Verdi, Dean Martin, or the Super Mario Bros. music. That’s the sort of assumption that I would not expect from a Wesleyan student. Why-a you gotta stereotype this loveable papist?

Maybe Mr. Kelley should have ordered some cheese to go with his whine! What a complainer. So there was some lipstick on his glass. We Italians are passionate people. That lipstick was just the physical manifestation of the love we put into every meal. It almost certainly does not have to do with our broken dishwashing machine or our indifference to sanitary conditions. That’s a soggy cannoli!

And by the way, we never lied about Bon Appetit Magazine. We did win fourth place for Best Shrimp Alfredo… Served in a Restaurant Called Alfredo’s… in the Greater Middletown Metropolitan Area.

So, Mr. Kelley, keep bad-mouthing our fine dining establishment and I’ll be sure to make you a reservation for your next review. How about Alfredo’s Riverside Restaurant and Inn? First you get a nice seafood dinner and then you sleep with the fishes— if you catch my meaning. That’s a calzone stuffed-a with my feces!

Bottom line: Don’t listen to Mark Kelley… please.

– Alfredo Luigi Mario Raviolio