Restaurant Review, Toppers Pizza 3940 E Main St Ventura, CA 93003

Restaurant Review, Toppers Pizza  3940 E Main St  Ventura, CA  93003

Combinations?  Visit with influential ambiance for several hours seeing ladies in flower dresses and agitated guys with sunglasses on cloudy days, tuning into the tall curvy restaurant’s television choices of tennis and sharp grins, thus having ranch dijon by Cucumber Court through absorbing a spacious atmosphere with big box videogames and labels of urban comforts.  The salad bar is a fresh base for chunky rations, given bowls and silver pizza trays due to Toppers’ front counter customs of saturated black menus if not only employees with comedic associations; just to add to the mix of Ventura’s rapid and cool walks of life, I can let ice melt a little into decorated paper pipes of Diet Coke while being alive after death, sipping pizza sauce and flossing with slices after nurse party runs and recovering from outrageous blues.  A pizza topping is a stamp you can lick!  Ovens can be like the miniscule stars representing people’s exhaustion from the 80’s; we should build pizzas like we should write complicated letters, so toppings must be accurate badges of cheese pie taste when pizza artisan employees drizzle the honey over creations of melted textures.  Toppers’ pastrami is stronger than Old New York Deli & Bakery Co.’s in Camarillo yet milder compared to Subway’s, but I can burn with nostalgia because of all the different pastrami shapes and flavor taste relishing.  Ordinary plates can be special no doubt since events click in with our motives off and on, kids busy in the tight corner arcade and impartial dudes swinging napkins over cross table tops, and restaurant travelers can pick up poppers and pizza cookies near the largest fork statue in the beach county.  Toppers’ has top hits and bottom hits when it comes to pizzas, select sauces and requested anchovies, various sandwich simplicities, what used to be Kettle Classics, zapped fontina cheeses, a relatively rich lobby with zip-zap turns and senses of gross humor, and a very fresh salad bar that’s wider than Santino’s with colors that are less dull yet really sparked or enticing.  Hours on demand are stories for customer help, so families get more comfortable and keep a kind of dining psyche they understand; from this less-than-acute focus for my observation, plates are often missing however eyes are gleaming; “Eat More Pizza,” and talks might be surrendered to by bittersweet parents especially after our tasty memories interfere with our delicious perceptions.  There’s bare notions to Toppers’ enriched welcome that catch fire from Italian American freedom, even as the hot slices get the cold cuts, so Ventura’s cultural flows become Toppers’ community of horse-eye individualism and thus the pretensions to our fear eventually twist up reality in return for rush wheel emotions, which are true and designate what passions and boring temptations lift the lily.  Toppers’ silent comments about tall board menus keep the common fashions away, and the workers’ low voice customer information serves as my nostalgic tune for real key dining after lovers don’t get enough fun for stupid jokes, so I wish upon Toppers’ ovens for Italian spiciness as well as eaten quarters.  Basically, Ventura Toppers’ checkered foundation revolves around urban layers which pull from the darkness for improved art, leaving us with molten pizzas and intriguing gangs while, too, stopping the madness in order to portray edified fun that’s a time-bone to Toppers’ physics of imbecility.   

This is the Chicken Ranch Dijon Pizza.