Dear The Hill,
You probably don’t know who I am. That’s ok. I’m just one of countless patrons who fill up your fine establishment every night. Needless to say, though, I’m a big fan. This is why I’m extremely distressed at the impending removal of your pizza oven as part of the big refurbishment and rebrand that 2015 has in store for you.
I had never been to a bar/pizza kitchen before first year, when one of the Freshers’ pub crawls introduced me to The Hill. From then on I’ve been coming back on as regular a basis as my bank balance and waistline will allow. For any meal out, two-for-one pizza on a Tuesday was my go-to (the Thursday cocktail deal made you a great pre-Lounge venue, as well).
Here I am, expressing my appreciation for The Hill in 2013
Expressing my appreciation for The Hill in 2013
Imagine my horror when I discovered that one of my favourite eateries is not only closing its doors for two months, but will be getting rid of my beloved pizzas when it reopens in favour of a wider selection of home-brewed beers. I wish I could express my true feelings about this but I haven’t worked out how to translate howls of anguish into written English yet.
I’m pleased for your micro-brewery, really I am, but have you considered those of us who don’t particularly like beer? I know we’re a minority but there’s still quite a few of us. I’m certain that we outnumber the pizza-haters of Bristol, of which I think there are about five. Even the gluten-free and the lactose intolerant have found ways of making pizza edible for their dietary requirements, that’s how good pizza is. Without your pizza oven, what will become of the beer-hating pizza-lovers among your clientele, namely me? I can’t help but feel personally betrayed.
Those pizzas are the only ones in Bristol that Italians like, by the way. I took some real life Italians to your establishment and they had only nice things to say about your pizzas. If you’d seen the contemptuous sneers that Pizza Express’s offerings were met with, you’d realise the true magnitude of this compliment. Getting an Italian to admit that a foreign-made pizza is good is no easy task and your chefs managed it.
This isn’t a threat to stop frequenting your wonderful public house, you understand. You still have lots of things going for you, even without the delicious, reasonably priced pizzas for which you are most known. Your sofas are comfortable, your décor is tasteful, your bar staff are friendly and know how to make an excellent Cosmopolitan. As tempting as the cheap drinks of the nearby Wetherspoons are, I do prefer to give my money to local businesses where possible, as well. So I will be back, in spite of everything. There will always be something missing, though.
Yours faithfully and miserably,
Rowena
