New York Pizza

A mob of us strolled down the quiet streets of downtown after dark. Looking for food. We found a New York Pizza place next to a Chicago Dog place. Standing in mid sidewalk to discuss the options, we ended up in the pizza joint. They had beer from a local brewery, good salads, and excellent pizza true to their name. We filled an giant booth and pulled up an extra table. Good people, good food: a recipe for success. No one expected . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “New York pizza.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

3 thoughts on “New York Pizza”

  1. In 1950 I was in Chicago. I had been stationed in CA and then transfered to IL. I had tasted pizza in San Francisco and really liked it.

    I walked into an Italian place on State Street with two of my AF buddies. “We would like a pizza pie, what kind do you have?” We gotta applea and we gotta peacha and a banana creama….” He went on and on. We gave up. He had no clue. Pizza had not made it to Chicago in 1950.

  2. No one expected two guys with machine guns to blast through the front door and take out the whole table next to us. That stuff only happened in movies. Or movie theaters. We covered our heads and dove under the table …

  3. There are certain types of ethnic foods that generate irrational ownership. Suddenly, everyone becomes an expert. Rabid flurries of “Yah, but is it authentic?” and “Well last time.” explode from these foodie nationalist uncontrollably. I think cooking shows are largely to blame; let someone watch a couple episodes of Top Chef and they’re miraculously transformed into a snooty critic.

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