I didn’t choose the pizza life—the pizza life chose me. I haven’t met a piece of pizza I didn’t like.
Show me a pizza, and suddenly I’m negotiating with my elliptical like it’s a hostage situation. I wanted to eat healthy, so I gave up red meat. When I gave up red meat there went pepperoni and sausage off the pizza. I didn’t know nitrates could taste so good. So I gradually weaned myself away and began substituting veggies and fresh mozzarella. Without the meat, I reasoned I could eat more. At first I reasoned that my weight gain was water retention. After a few more days I knew I had to take corrective action. Cut back on pizza? Never! I began calculating how long I’d have to work out at the gym so I could consume a generous slice of pizza. Eventually, through trial and error and a few pounds here and there I figured it out. If I went on the elliptical machine for one hour at a moderate pace and lifted weights for 45 minutes I could eat a generous slice of pizza and not gain weight. The problem being who can stop with one piece of pizza? The solution was simple, exercise more. Soon I found myself showing up to the gym five days a week so I could maintain my pizza habit. That’s when a friend confronted me with the startling truth, “Ray, you’ve got a problem. You’re hooked on pizza.” I answered, “That’s a good thing, right?” My friend challenged me, “You’re in denial. Do you want me to check to see if there is a pizza anonymous in the city?” My mind raced, he wants me to attend PA meetings. started to sweat. The thought of sitting with a group of like people and saying, “Hi, my name is Ray and I’m addicted to pizza.” Thanks to my friend I am reformed pizza addict. Now I eat stuff that says it’s pizza but it isn’t. It has cauliflower crust and I something that supposed to be mozzarella. At least I’m not falling asleep in the middle of the day after being exhausted from working out for a couple of hours.
pizza
What’s the World’s Favorite Food? Take a Wild Guess!
Sure, rice might feed billions—but what food makes hearts race and mouths water from Naples to New York, from Tokyo to Tijuana? Let’s see if your foodie instincts are on point.
Health Tip: You Really Think a Triple Bypass is a Good Option?
Today’s Health Tip
Limit processed foods: Processed foods are often high in unhealthy fats, sugar, and sodium.
Growing up in my Italian neighborhood processed foods were considered part of the healthy foods pyramid. On Saturdays my mom would buy a couple long loaves of crusty Italian bread, stop by the deli and buy and assortment of cold cuts. Little surprise all of my uncles and my dad had triple bypass surgery. The only good thing I can say about processed meats they bought is that I enjoyed eating them. I don’t eat them now and haven’t for years. Still, if I go out for pizza with friends and see a pepperoni pizza delivered to the table next to our table, I start salivating. Bottom line? Who needs a triple bypass.
Great Healthy Tips: Follow the 80/20 Rule
Follow the 80/20 Rule — Eat nutrient-dense whole foods 80% of the time and allow room for indulgences 20% of the time.
Who’s perfect? Correct answer, no one. I am really disciplined with my eating and exercise habits. If a friend invites me out for pizza, don’t ask twice, this Italian will be in your driveway waiting for you. There was a time when I didn’t know when to quit eating pizza. Now, I limit myself to two slices, okay, maybe three if it’s really good. Don’t be afraid you lost it if you take a meal off to enjoy yourself now and them.
Today’s Thought: What’s Your Favorite Pizza?
When I get a pizza I like my pizza with fresh mozzarella and loaded with veggies. A friend of mine likes her pizza with pepperoni. Even though we like different pizzas we remain good friends. The same should apply if we had different ideas about football teams or politics. When we let what we want or like get in the way of our relationships with others, something is wrong. Friendship, kindness, and respect are better choices.
A Pizza For Pope Francis
Chapter 19
Zeke and Mickey sat on a sofa in Zeke’s apartment. A half-eaten bag of taco flavored chips sat on a scratched coffee table. The coffee table was courtesy of Zeke’s skill at dumpster diving. The lights were out, the shades pulled, the TV off. The boys were sitting silently, the only sounds were the pop of a beer can opening, the slurp of beer, an occasional burp, and the tossing of an empty Bud can toward a wire trash can ten feet away. The wire trash held four empty cans, eight empty cans were scattered on the floor nearby the basket.
Mickey nudged Zeke, “Can I talk?”
“You’re talking, Mickey. What do you want?” asked Zeke turning around and peeking out from behind the shade.
“You see anything?” asked Mickey.
“Nope. Nobody is out there,” said Zeke.
“Zeke, I’m going crazy. How much longer can we keep holding up in your place?”
“We’ve only been here a little over an hour. Take it easy. Give time for Nonna’s curse to work. Those things don’t work right away, they take a little time,” said Zeke.
“I’m starving. When I drink beer, I need food.”
“Have some more chips, it’s all I got, if I don’t count Frosted Flakes,” said Zeke.
“Can we send out for a pizza?” asked Mickey.
“With what? We spent the money Tony Gallino gave us,” said Zeke.
Mickey shrugged, “I been holding out, Zeke. I got a stash. I been saving up for a new PlayStation.”
“How much you got?” asked Zeke.
“If you think I’ve been taller the last two weeks, I been cheating a little. I keep the money I’m stashing in my right shoe.” Mickey untied his right shoe, took off his sock, stuck his hand in his sock and pulled out ten and ten ones.”
“That had to hurt, Mickey,” said Zeke.
“I only limped a little. But you never said nothing,” said Mickey.
Zeke felt a tinge of guilt. He said, “Go order us a pizza. Give a fake name so they won’t know who it is.”
“Gottcha. I’ll go in the other room so I won’t disturb anybody who might be watching us watching them.”
Five minutes later Mickey came back in the living room, “Anything going on?”
“I keep checking, the coast is still clear,” said Zeke.
Thirty minutes later, a knock on the door, “Pizza.”
“Wait a second,” hollered Zeke. Then he turned to Mickey, “Look through the peep hole, make sure it is the pizza delivery guy.”
“Okay,” said Mickey as he walked toward the door. He placed his eye against the peep hole. “He’s carrying a pizza box from Lombardi’s.”
“Lombardi’s? Are you nuts. Tony Gallino’s boys hang out there.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t give my right name,” said Mickey, then he opened the door.
A big burly pizza guy with a Lombardi’s pizza delivery shirt on said, “I gotta pizza for Pope Francis.”
Mickey said, “That’s me.”
The pizza guy handed Mickey the pizza, then stepped inside knocking Mickey and pizza aside. He pulled a gun and said, “Don’t do nothing stupid. You two gonna come with me. Mr. G wants to have a conversation with you.”
Mickey had stumbled to the floor, but still held the pizza box. He looked up at the pizza guy, “Can I take the pizza with me?”
Poor Zeke and Mickey, they’re in trouble now. Will Tony Gallino let them go? Will Nonna’s curse work in time to save the boys.
He Has A Nose Longer Than Pinocchio
Chapter 17
Zeke stood in front of Nonna’s door. Mickey stood behind him. Zeke rapped his knuckles on the wooden entrance door. There was no answer. He rapped his knuckles again.
This time, from the other side of the door, “Nobody’s home, can’t you see that. Now go away.”
“It’s me, Nonna,” said Zeke.
“I don’t know no me. Nonna she’s a not here. She gone away for a trip to someplace you don’t know with her boyfriend, but don’t tell Rocco.”
“It’s Zeke, Nonna. I gotta talk to you about the package. Please open,” pleaded Zeke.
“Maybe I open the door if you didn’t bring that dumb as a lump of pizza dough Palitroni with you.”
From behind Zeke, “I’m Zeke’s friend, my name is Al Capone.”
“You stick you kisser in front of this tiny hole, I can tell if you are Al Capone or you somebody wants to steal his good name,” said Nonna.
Zeke shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped out of the to let Mickey pass and stick his kisser in front of the tiny hole.
Twenty seconds later, “You a no good Palitroni. You trying to steal Al Capone’s name. You know how I can tell? I tell you how I can tell, all you Palitroni’s got a nose longer than Pinocchio.”
“I’m going to go to court to have my name changed, Nonna. Please let Zeke in. I promise to be good.”
“You better go get a nose job, it do you better than a different name. Okay I let you boys in, but only for a few minutes. Mario Zito gonna come over and have some wine with me. Who knows what might happen if I keep his glass full, know what I mean?” said Nonna.
Nonna opened the door. She was still in her black dress. Her hair was still up in a bun. She still held a cleaver in her right hand, “Zeke take this fool Palitroni and go sit at the kitchen table. I give you good wine, him, I give dandelion wine from last spring. It tastes like hell, but a Palitroni never know the difference, you watch.”
From behind Zeke, “I like dandelion wine.”
“What I tell you, no taste, no class, no brains. Have a seat. Keep an eye on Palitroni, make sure he don’t steal my rosary,” said Nonna.
Five minutes later Nonna came back with a bottle of red wine and a bottle of homemade dandelion wine. “This first one is for Zeke. This crap is for you. When you done with it, you can have it. I don’t want to get infected.”
“Thanks, Nonna,” said Mickey.
“Now, I’m gonna go get the package and we gonna talk about it,” said Nonna.
“Do you think she opened it?” asked Mickey.
“Nonna? Never, she’s too honest to do something like that. You drinking the dandelion wine straight out of the bottle?” asked Zeke.
“I’m thirsty,” said Mickey. Then he added, “This stuff is good. I got to tell Gus about it.”
A moment later, Nonna returned carrying an unwrapped package. She sat down with the package on her lap. On the table in front of her was a glass of red wine, and her cleaver. “You boys made one move to take this package I gonna cut you fingers off and maybe I don’t stop there if you know what I mean.”
“You opened it, Nonna. We’re all dead,” said Zeke.
“Whatchu talking about? I’m not a dead. You’re not a dead. I’m hoping Palitroni drops over dead the way he’s a drinking the dandelion wine.”
“But you opened it. Tony Gallino said not to open it or he would be very angry,” said Zeke.
Nonna waved her arm, it was her left arm. The arm holding her glass of red wine, a bit of the wine landing on Mickey’s face. “That’s all you get, Palitroni. As for Tony Gallino, the hell with him. I puta curse on him tonight gonna make him wish he never threatened one of my grandchildren. You tell his girlfriends, he gonna be no use to them until he apologizes to you. He don’t have to apologize to Palitroni.”
Mickey looked up, “Do you have any more dandelion wine?”
“What I tell you, Zeke. Never mind. I look in the box and I like what I see in the box. Tony not gonna get what’s inside the box.”
“What’s inside the box?” asked Zeke.
Nonna started laughing, “You not gonna believe what’s inside the package.”
“Is it money? Drugs? Diamonds?” asked Zeke.
Nonna opened the package and started laughing.
What’s inside the package? Will Nonna’s curse work? Will the boys get out of this jam?
Friends to the End
Chapter 1
Zeke Pratti sat on a swivel stool at Lombardi’s Bar and Pizzeria staring into his mug of beer. He was separated by a stool from Mickey, the nose, Palitroni who was lifting his mug of beer over his head and coaxing the last drops from the mug to drop into his mouth. Gus Polati, the bartender, was at the end of the bar. He was washing beer mugs. Lombardi’s opened at ten in the morning. Zeke and Mickey were on their stools by five after ten. They consumed their first beer by ten fifteen. It was now eleven. Mickey was finishing his third beer. Zeke was contemplating life as he gazed into his third beer.
“I’m one up on you, Zeke. Want to try for six by lunch?” asked Mickey.
“Not today, Mickey. I’m going through an existential funk,” said Zeke.
“Huh? I heard of funk. I never heard of the other word. Did you watch PBS last night? What I tell you about that channel. It’s run by commies, pinkos, and vegetables.”
“You mean vegetarians?” ask Zeke.
“You talking about the people who do the birth control thing on dogs and cats, which I do not approve. Why don’t they teach dogs and cats to use condoms? Nobody wants to answer that question. These are same people who give dogs and cats rabbit shots. Am I right?” asked Mickey.
Gus looked down the bar toward Mickey and wondered if he should cut him off before he became a danger to society.
“I used to date one of them,” said Zeke.
“A vegetable, or a vegetarian?” asked Mickey.
“The one who works on dogs and cats,” said Zeke.
“What happened?” asked Mickey signaling Gus for another beer.
Zeke quit gazing into his beer, lifted the mug to his lips, took a look swig, put the mug down on the bar, and wiped his mouth on his hairy forearm. He said, “The local beers have been the best invention since they invented toilet paper.”
“I’ll give you that one,” said Mickey. Then he said, “What about the vegetarian?”
“It was going great. I mean we got along like cheese and pizza, like meatballs and spaghetti, you know what I mean?” asked Zeke.
“Yah,” said Mickey as he stuck his left hand out to the middle of the bar to catch the sliding mug of beer from Gus.
“Man, she had it all in all the right places. Everything was good until she decides to ask me the one question that scares the daylights out of me,” said Zeke.
Gus is interested. He moved down the bar so he could pick up the conversation.
Mickey took a sip of his fourth beer and said, “She wanted to get married? That’s what all the dame’s want.”
“No. I coulda handled the proposal. Just because you agree you want to get married, doesn’t mean you have to get married, see what I’m saying?” asked Zeke.
“Yah, I see it. But you got my interest picked,” said Mickey.
Gus wondered if Mickey meant piqued.
“She dropped the bomb on me. She says to me before I have my first beer of the day, which I usually have with breakfast, ‘When are you going to get a job and get of unemployment?’”
Mickey made the sign of the cross, “This is like the worst thing a broad can ask. She wanted to take you off the gravy train after all you did for her?” asked Mickey.
“To be honest, I didn’t do nothing for her except let her enjoy my entire personality if you know what I mean. I’m in my prime. I can go forever.”
“Maybe it was her time of the month, you know how that goes. I remember when I was with Isabel, I thought I was under a terrorist attack,” said Mickey before he took a long drink from his mug.
“That’s just it, she’s got common sense. She’s always even keel. I knew when she said it, the honeymoon was over. How long we been best friends, all our life, right, don’t answer, I know I’m right. But let me ask you, I had ten weeks left on unemployment. It’s a free vacation from the government. Do you agree you got to be stupid to go to work when you are getting paid for not going to work.” said Zeke.
“It does not take a genius to figure that one out. Did you explain this to her? asked Mickey.
Gus was also interested, although he had an inclination as to what happened.
“I told her what I told you. She must have been expecting that because she had a plastic bag filled with my dirty clothes and tossed them at me and said, “Get out and don’t call me, ever.”
“That was both tough and unfair. In the pros the refs ususaly give you a warning. I think that should go in relationships,” said Mickey.
“That’s genius, Mickey. I was getting tired of her. I was starting to look around while she was working. But the only women I could find were all married or with somebody. I got ethics. I won’t do that, especially if the guy is bigger than me,” laughed Zeke.
Mickey high fived Zeke. Gus wondered why they’re walking around loose.
Zeke continued, “The tough part is I only got one week left on unemployment and no prospects. How about you.”
“I run out this week, and I got no prospects,” said Mickey.
At that moment, fortune and fate decided to turn its light on the best friends. The door to Lombardi’s Bar and Pizzeria opened and Tony Gallino walked in.
Come by tomorrow to discover how fortune and fate smiled on Zeke and Mickey.
If Only You Were More Romantic
You’re probably what I’m doing hanging around with this cast of characters? I’ve wondered the same thing many times. It’s one of those questions without an answer. I’ve tried to escape, but each time I’m sucked back into their lives by an external force. Enough of my problems. We left off with poor Carmela who has a thing with TT being coerced to “test drive” O’Leary for a week. Carmela is in love with TT a former writer for Dr. Phil who is now Big Carmen’s family manager. Big Carmen sent TT off to New Orleans to meet with family (aka other mob members). Let’s see how it plays out.
Carmela eyes are filled with tears. She’s biting her lower lip. Her face is flushed. O’Leary looks away from his pizza and turns toward Carmela. He stares at her. Then he said, “Dat’s a good look.”
La Flor nudges LC, “It’s working. O’Leary falling for Carmela.”
I overheard her comment. I whispered to La Flor, “What about Carmela?”
“Look at her, Ray. Just look at her. She’s falling crazy in love with O’Leary. She’s filled with joy.”
“She’s about to cry, La Flor.”
“They are tears of joy. She’ll finally be free of TT. Oh, La Flor you are brilliant. And, such a good person,” La Flor likes both first and third person.
“LC talk some sense into La Flor,” I pleaded.
“You talkin small change? I can talk McKinley, Franklin, and Cleveland. But I ain’t gonna talk cents.”
“Why don’t you too love birds sit on the sofa. Ray will bring your food and drinks over. O’Leary, help Carmela out of her seat and escort her over,” said La Flor sounding more like a drill sergeant than hostess.
La Flor grabbed hold of LC’s arm and pulled him to the sofa. They sit down before O’Leary can take one more bite of pizza.
With La Flor and LC on the sofa, there is only enough room on the sofa for a tight squeeze for two ultra thin people. Carmela may have to sit on O’Leary’s lap. It’s called the donut effect in medical circles.
O’Leary stands, walks behind Carmela’s chair. Carmela hasn’t budged. “You da shy type. I can sees dis. Me? I’m more of da opposite. Likes they say opposites detract.”
“Just look at Carmela, LC. Her mascara is streaking down her face she’s so happy. I hope they hook up tonight. Let’s encourage them,” said La Flor.
“You’ve gone too far, La Flor. I’m not going to put this in the blog,” I spoke in a low firm tone.
“Too late, Ray. We’re live streaming.”
“Huh?”
“Since use is too shy to helps me. I will slides use out and carries use over to da sofa, chair and all,” said O’Leary pulling Carmela out. Carmela holds on to the edge of the table with a jaws of life grip. O’Leary tugged. Carmela tugged back.
“LC go and pry Carmela’s fingers loose. We can’t let her shyness block true love,” said La Flor.
I tried a different tact, “O’Leary, here’s a cream filled powered donut you missed. If you don’t get it, someone else might.”
O’Leary let go of Carmela’s chair. I stood on the opposite side of the table. The donut sat on a small paper plate.
“Hand it over, Ray,” said O’Leary in a cop voice.
“You have to come around the table and get it.”
“We can do this the hard way or the easy way,” said O’Leary.
“What’s the hard way?” I asked.
“I’ll book use for withholding evidence from a crime scene,” said O’Leary.
“What crime scene?” I asked.
“The one where somebody reports you’ve been mugged for a donut,” said O’Leary taking a swipe across the table at the donut.
I heard a car door close. Not a slam so I knew it wasn’t one of LC’s relatives. My doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Big Carmen. It rang again.
“LC please get the door. It could be important.”
“Whoever it is send them away from this love nest,” said La Flor.
I was doing my best to avoid O’Leary’s increasing aggressive swipes. He was leaning over the table. His belly resting on two slices of pepperoni pizza. I heard LC open the door.
“Is my darling here? I’m back early from New Orleans sweetie.”
Carmela jumped up from her chair, rushed past O’Leary, avoided the blocking hands of LC and did her version of the leap, knocking TT to the floor. TT lie prone on his back. Carmela straddling his stomach showering TT with kisses and mascara.
I tossed the donut to O’Leary. He caught it in his right hand and brought it in one motion to his mouth. When he finished, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and said, “Tanks for doing it the easy way.”
“I know better than to mess with the city’s toughest detective,” I said.
“You just ruined love, Ray. If only you were more romantic,” said La Flor.
“Like you and LC?”
“Exactly.”
