Dear Pasta Pizza,
Someone once told me that the fastest way to another person’s heart is through their stomach. Well, Pasta Pizza, you’ve proven that statement to be true.
I understand that your general existence is a carbo-loaded contradiction, I mean really, who needs that much starch in their life? Well, apparently I do. It must be your unexpected quirks that have reeled me in. At one point, I believed I’d come in contact with every crazy flavor available-until I found you.
We met my junior year of high school at my local pizza place. I won’t lie, it wasn’t love at first sight. At that point, you were overshadowed by my former high school love: BBQ chicken pizza.
I couldn’t really wrap my head around why it was necessary to have pasta on pizza, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t intrigued. I clearly didn’t properly appreciate your blend of carbs, savory vodka sauce, or cheesy goodness.
I am taking this moment to formally apologize for my negligence. What I can say is that these past few years have given us some time to mature and grow—I mean, let’s face it, college is doing you wonders.
After a tour of the Fordham’s Bronx pizzerias last semester, we met again at Nike’s (formerly known as Bellini’s) pizzeria this year. I guess that was when our romance took off (let’s keep Pugsley Pizza out of the equation). Since that first fateful night out, we’ve had midnight dates, taken walks through the Bronx, and even toured a couple of the local bars together.
Let’s discuss something, though. It’s not all fun and games: you’re very difficult to eat. I’m not saying you’re not delicious, but you can get sloppy. We really need to work on that. I may or may not be embarrassed by you when we go out.
I know you’ve probably had a little too much to drink seeing as you are drenched in vodka (sauce), but could you please just hold yourself together a bit for once? There’s nothing worse than watching one of your noodles bounce off on to a dirty table…poor wounded soldier.
I have come to realize how exotic you are—I mean a plain slice just can’t measure up to your layers. You’re deep without the arrogance of deep dish pizza. You fulfill almost all of my dietary (and caloric) needs in one sitting. You’re basically a meal to-go. Who could need much more?
I couldn’t be more thankful to have begun this whirlwind of a romance with you, Pasta Pizza, and I look forward to our future together.
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