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Good Food!

I Cannot, in Good Conscience, Recommend that Anyone Patronize Marco's Pizza

Restaurant: Marco's Pizza
Cuisines:
Pizza, Sandwiches, Salads
Location: Roughly 7700 S. Redwood Road, West Jordan (No Map)
Price Range: No Need
Grade:
F

I had watched eagerly for Marco's Pizza to open in the shopping center on the Northwest corner of 7800 South and Redwood Road in West Jordan. I drove by several times, eager to find something new in West Jordan. Finally, it opened, in the same ministrip with Panda Express, but I did not go in because I wanted to give them a chance to get their act together as a restaurant. I waited for three weeks after they opened.

Little did I know ....

When I approached, the first thing I noticed were people sitting outside at the two tables on the sidewalk, but neither had food. I figured that they must have just finished eating, so I went in. Inside, there were three booths, two tables and two bars where four people each could sit facing out through the windows. Not a single surface was clean. Not one. But my wife and I were excited to try it, so we claimed the table with the least dry, sticky soda mess and crumbs on it. We stood in line to order (there were four orders ahead of us at each register). The order taking was slow, because both girls working the registers could not hear the people ordering, due to all the noise in the kitchen behind them. Might be a good idea to put up some kind of barrier to help them hear. Overhead, there were three flat-screen TVs with the menu showing. I was curious what the difference was between Pepperoni and Old World Pepperoni (or something like that), which was interesting, but they also had a decent list of sandwiches on their menu. So my wife and I decided to try the Italiano, 12 inch, no onions, so we could split it. Then I made the mistake of asking the girl at the register a question. I asked, "What is the difference between 'Oven Baked' and 'Classic Cool' under the breads heading on the menu." She told me that they have white and wheat. I said, "I understand that. What's the difference between Oven Baked and Classic Cool?" She said, "All of our subs are oven baked." My wife then said, "Oh! That means you can order it cold or hot, right?" The girl said all sandwiches go through the oven. So then I asked again, "So what's the difference between Oven Baked and Classic Cool?" She repeated, "We have white and wheat." So I gave up. We also ordered Cheesy Bread, because it was on special, and two drinks. She took my name, entered it on the order and ran our credit card. Our order was rung out at 6:45 p.m. I filled my cup with Dr. Pepper and, when I checked both napkin holders in the dining room, found both of them to be empty, so I could not even wipe down the table myself.

Little did I know ....

After sitting at our filthy table for about 10 minutes, a boy came out with a bucket and wash cloth to wipe down the tables. His bucket was coated on the outside with white cleaning powder of some kind, so it left what looked like crumbs on every table he wiped down. Nonetheless, I asked him to wipe ours down. He did, with a smile on his face. Fair enough. But, while waiting, I observed one customer who ordered online, but his order was not in the system. Another gentleman complained because he had called in an order but still had no food after being there waiting for 30 minutes. The man with the lost online order then placed his order again and started waiting ... and waiting ... and waiting.

Little did I know ....

When in high school and college, I worked at Blimpie. We were required to spend no more than three minutes from the time that a sandwich order was taken to the time the customer had paid and walking away with food, drink and chips. The toughest district manager I had would stand there with a stop watch, and you did not want to be the one who didn't hit the three-minute mark. That three minutes included slicing the meat and cheese, dressing the sandwich, filling the cup, ringing it up, taking money and giving back change. It's only making sandwiches, it's not rocket science. So, at 7:30 p.m. (I checked my watch), we got our food. Took 45 minutes to make a sandwich and one order of Cheesy Bread. This was after watching finished pizzas and other product being boxed and placed in their window, getting deeper and deeper, orders coming in but nothing going out. At one point, I counted 14 boxes sitting there for customers, but no one being served. Anyway, I opened the sandwich, wrapped in butcher paper but having sat there long enough that it had soaked through, and found that it was not the sandwich we ordered: it had turkey and bacon on it. So I tried to wrap it back up, but the label used to hold the butcher paper together folded in on itself and stood up like a little dorsal fin. Nonetheless, I returned itand told the girl that took my order that it was not my sandwich. She apologized and asked my name and what I ordered and said she would find out what was wrong. This was after watching the table next to us having received the wrong pizza three times. (I'm not kidding. Three times.) So I started on the Cheesy Bread, except that the ranch dressing came in a sealed cup like a larger version of Arctic Circle fry sauce, and someone had already opened it, but pushed the paper tab back down. Ranch dressing was all over the outside of it, so it was obvious that we had been served someone's garbage, inside the same box as our Cheesy Bread. I took it up to the register and noted at least nine employees working. Truly baffling, how nine people could be working, yet they could not get a sandwich turned in less than an hour. I showed the girl the garbage we had been served and got a new cup, again, with an apology. The thing is, if you continue to apologize over and over and over, it stops losing its effectiveness. The two things I heard most from employees were apolgies and "I had them remake it, they're sending it through the oven right now." Heard the last one dozens of times in the time I was there. Again, not kidding: dozens.

Little did I know ....

After 10 more minutes, she came out with my sandwich and said that she had unwrapped it to make sure it was my Italiano. The thing was, the label that was used to hold the butcher paper was folded together on one end, so it stood up like a little dorsal fin. Worse, when I opened it up, it had turkey and bacon on it. Now I'm getting more than annoyed. I had been there 55 minutes and still had not received my sandwich, then she lied to me about having checked the sandwich personally, when she really just took the one I had returned and turned around to give it back to me, as if I would not notice. Also during that 55 minutes, the other girl at the register came out to offer everyone free drinks to make up for their complete and utter lack of service. The thing was, we all had ordered drinks already, so only one person took the free drink.

By this time, every new customer who came in was warned by multiple present customers, "Turn back now. I've been here 55 minutes" or "more than an hour" or whatever it might have been. Around this time, an adult showed up, likely the owner, clearly about to have a caniption. I told him that I had been waiting 55 minutes for my sandwich after getting the first one after 45 minutes only to find that it was the wrong sandwich and the girl only turned around and gave me back the same sandwich, claiming that she had checked it personally to make sure it was right. By this time, people were asking for refunds, and the older man yelled at his employees that they were killing him, and yelled twice at employees that they had 30 seconds to finish something or they would be gone.

So, after another 18 minutes (yes, I checked my watch, at 7:58 p.m.), I finally received my sandwich. It was the correct sandwich, made correctly, although they did not bother to cut it in half. It's rather difficult to eat a 12-inch sandwich whole, but I grabbed a plastic knife and cut it myself. I thought, "Hopefully, it's good."

But it wasn't.

It had one layer of Salami, one layer of Ham, Cheese that had melted out all over the outside of the bun, was stuffed full of Banana Peppers and Tomatoes. It was a vegetarian sandwich with meat and cheese as an afterthought ("meat on the side," to quote a recent candidate for Next Food Network Star). The vinaigrette was decent, but might well have been the Italian salad dressing used by Olive Garden. The Cheesy Bread wasn't bad, but it didn't taste much different than the bread sticks at Little Ceaesars.

And I waited 1 hour and 13 minutes for a sandwich.

This was, without a doubt, the worst restaurant service I have ever witnessed. It was so incredibly bad, in every conceivable way.

I could not, in good conscience, recommend that anyone patronize Marco's Pizza.

Last words on Marco's Pizza: "I hate leaving a restaurant disappointed, let alone angry."

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     food·ie (fd)
     noun. Slang.  A person who has an ardent or refined interest in food; a gourmet.