It was a lazy Tuesday evening, the type where you’re ready to jump out of your own skin due to a crushing urge to do something to stave off the boredom of routine. Maybe it was Monday, not that the day actually matters. We, myself and some my apartment mates, decide to head off in search of a good pie. I don’t refer to the sweet fruit filled stuff of diner and holiday tradition, but PIE. The type best had with a pitcher of beer and friends, the visual by which many are taught fractions, the Neapolitan gift better known the world over as pizza.

We head out in search of Pizza E Musica having been informed by someone within our group that they have a make your own pizza deal. Not that I actually need and excuse to seek out a good pie, but hey I ain’t looking this gift horse in the mouth. Now the we trek out in search of this promised pizzeria, which in order to find the two who know of this place are forced to retrace their steps in a manner so convoluted that we must eventually be led by a local to this hidden gem. And I mean that the realist sense I can imagine, the outside makes no declaration as to what is held within. Marked only by a door, looking very much like any door you might find on any house, which is left open.

This joint was 5 to ten minutes walk in from any of the main streets, no markings to speak of upon an exterior that to the unaware simply appears to be another in a long line of apartments. And if you do glance through the door all you see is a hedge wall that could mark any of countless courtyard gardens found through out the city. I swear any harder to find and I would need to know a secret handshake to get in, then the transformation into a prohibition era speakeasy would be complete.

However this rather plain and unimposing exterior unfolds as you make your way down the staircase into the courtyard for the pizzeria. And the while the interior is decorated with painted and decorated walls and a mix CD of 80’s pop, which was all impressive, but only as much as the next place trying to attract with it décor. However I was instantly in love with the court yard in which a handful of tables are arranged, because the area combines outdoor eating and seclusion. The space is rather sizeable allowing me to stare idly at an open swath of sky, but unlike the rest of the outdoor accommodations, this area was closed off and far from the street. The affect of this aspect is less obvious at first, but by freeing the patrons of outside influences and distractions one is free to devote more of their attention upon the ones they’re with.

Once we do finally seat our selves and peruse through the menu the selection and variety was a bit daunting and raised questioned amongst some of those within our party (what’s “speck”? what’s “arrugala”? what’s…etcetera), but with hunger speeding us along soon we were all able to make our selections. And even though we were forced to wait quite some time before our meal was to arrive I didn’t seem to mind. And that was entire due to the comfortable, relaxed atmosphere where in I was fully able to take-in and enjoy the company of those around me. The pizza was great, but make no mistake on that night that is not what sustained me. For I drank deep their presence and feasted on conversation and felt better than I had in some time.

And that’s, I think, the meaning of it all. This wasn’t an American pizza place and it certainly wasn’t and American experience. It was uniquely Italian experience, where must step off the beaten and fast paced path. T a place where it was you and your companions, all stopping to collectively refresh and recharge, meat and mind (why not body and soul you say, because its over used god damnit and I will not lower my art to cliché).

CIAO TUTTI