Pizza on a Sunday

The other Sunday was one of those literally perfect days.  Maybe 72 degrees, and not a cloud in that blue, blue sky.  A few of my family members decided to go out for lunch after church.  My seven-year-old nephew and four-year-old niece and I piled into Grandpa and Grandma's car, and we headed out...  Grandpa took us down the backroads - it was that sort of day.  

We ate at New York Pizza Plus in Alachua.  Now, if I am to be perfectly honest, I will admit that this place had a couple of things not going for it.  I wish I could say things like names and locations didn't affect my judgment, but I won't lie; I do have a few prejudices.  A name like "New York Pizza Plus" reeks of canned, food-service nastiness, and if the name leaves any doubt, a location in a blah, generic strip-mall, complete with nondescript signage, pretty much signs the death warrant.  Oh, and all-you-can-eat buffets for $7.99?  Generally, no thanks, I'll pass.

I was wrong.  For starters, the place is owned by Gaetano and Giacomo.  Get the drift?  The salads alone made my iceberg and Ranch-tortured heart sing.  Chickpeas, bathed in fruity olive oil and fresh garlic and onions... pickled vegetables... pasta salad with just the right amount of "chew" and that actually tasted like something... crisp lettuce salads, bright with citrus and ripe with garlic... I could have stayed there and been completely satisfied.

Then there was the pizza.... and the gnocchi.... and the mussels... and the spaghetti with real meatballs... and the roasted pork.... and those utterly devastating garlic knots....

 Let's just say, after leaving there, we didn't need to eat until at least dinnertime.

Word to the wise, the desserts were not worth the calories.  Otherwise, I can hardly wait to go back.

The best part of the whole thing, though?  That nephew of mine, I don't think he had ever experienced the luxurious responsibility of filling his own plate before.  Oh, how he loved browsing that buffet line... a little of this, and a little of that, and "oh, I need to get some of that apple salad", and a plate full of mussels, then a plate of spaghetti, and then cream puffs, for his aunt and sister and at least one for himself.  Six plates, all told.  And he (supposedly) could have eaten more.  Watching him revel in this new experience was positively heavenly - one of those moments that wakes a person up to what is wonderful and joyous in the world.

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Except ye become as little children...  Lord, you were right, once again.