“If I could buy stock in this place, I would.”
– Alan Seals, Professor of Economics at Auburn University
A single slice of pizza requires two plates. Patrons order beer by the pitcher more often than single bottles. One whole sandwich is really two meals.
Stacks of fresh ingredients fill their subs. Cheese stretches as long as the Brooklyn Bridge when you pull a slice of the Cheese Lover away from your mouth. No heat lamps, just mammoth pizza ovens. There’s a fresh coat of flour on just about everything behind the counter–including the people, above whom wads of dough frequently spin and flatten centrifugally.
Quantity? Check. Quality? Check. It must be expensive then, right?
Their lunch special is hard to beat: half a sub sandwich or a slice of pizza with chips and a fountain drink for under $6. Substitute a side salad in for the chips and it’s only $1 more.
A pitcher of beer costs about as much as a pint elsewhere. A slice of pizza a la carte starts at $2. All the sandwiches (remember: two meals) are under $10. A calzone with three toppings comes in just under $10, too.
The service is fast and friendly, except when it takes them more than two tries to get you to come clear your food from the hot real estate that is their work space.
On top of all this, I’ve never had a bad time at Little Italy. Something about the place inspires fun and laughter, and it’s not just the beer that circles the table like an offering plate. We gladly pull up chairs at an already crowded table to make room for everyone. You hear others cheer for some game that’s on the TV. It’s a place for good times, making new friends, and laughing with old friends.
Ladies and gentlemen: Little Italy has it all. There is no comparison. There is no competition. Not in the South, anyways. Maybe not outside of New York. Maybe not even there.