Friday Pizza Night is a big deal in our house and with our kids. And so is the running joke about saying that we're looking forward to a nice bowl of cereal for a late-night snack when we're in the middle of a bad dinner.
We typically rotate between Godfather and Nonna's for Friday Night Pizza. We love both restaurants for different reasons.
Last night, we wanted to try a new place via Door Dash. After living in Chicago for nearly a decade and having an adversarial relationship with Chicago "pizza" for all those painful years, it's been nice to be back on the East Coast with lots of options for good pizza.
The food arrived quickly and hot. That's the good news.
However, the cheese was runny in the box, and there was a lot of it. The mozzarella was the type that strings way long when you draw a slice from the pie. I personally don't like "cheese drag" when eating pizza, even though I appreciate that it's a nice visual effect for Pizza Hut or Dominos on TV commercials. The mozzarella on pizza in Italy doesn't behave like that.
We served our kids their slices, and sat down to watch a movie. Friday Movie Night has become a new thing alongside Friday Pizza Night as the kids grow older. Last night was "Fletch."
My son, who has a diverse pallette and who never met a slice of pizza he didn't like, took a bite. "This tastes terrible," he said, with a look of genuine shock on his face. He's a creature of habit, and good pizza is just automatic in our house. It was tantamount to a sucker punch. He was visible stunned.
My daughter took a bite. "Yucky."
I asked the kids what was wrong with the pizza.
My son said, "Daddy, do you know how you describe Chicago Pizza? Like how because of type of water in the Midwest the pizza dough is bland and doesn't rise or crust well. And how people in Chicago love a ton of gooey cheese all over the place on everything? That's what this tastes like."
My daughter once again, "Yucky."
I said, "This is New Jersey. How bad can it be?"
I reminded the kids that it took my wife and me something like seven years of living in Chicago to find decent pizza in Chicago. In those years, we'd resorted to eating frozen Tombstone pizza while living in Chicago because we hated the Midwest tomato and cheese casseroles so much, as well as all of the other goofy pizza places we'd come across. After seven years, we found a place that specialized in East Coast style pizza. Even though I used to refer to it as the equivalent of bad NJ pizza, it was a godsend in the Midwest.
Anyway, with the movie starting, I took a bite. I had to hold the tip of the Formaggio's slice with my left hand because the weight of the cheese and the sogginess of the dough caused tip-sag. That's what she said.
The kids were right. Pretty bad pizza for NJ.
The dough was too thick, soggy, and bland. There was way too much cheese, and it was the type of mozzarella that I knew would have me in the bathroom before the movie was over. And the sauce was unremarkable, fighting for a distant third third place.
I was kicking myself for botching Friday Night Pizza. I felt like I should have known better, too, because I remember driving past Formaggio's one day a month or two ago -- and I remember thinking to myself how the exterior of the restaurant looked like one of those interchangeable, mediocre restaurant facades in Lincoln Park Chicago, designed to look enticing and charming, but somehow lacking vintage, character, and authenticity.
Recalling all those years of being landlocked in Chicago with bad food and socially awkward people, I started trembling behind the wheel. I inadvertently drove through a red light, distracted by daymares of the Midwest. Luckily there were no cops around.
And the name, Formaggio? "Cheese" in Italian? Dumb name. Like so many of those goofy names of restaurants in Chicago, conceived of by amateurs to attract overweight Midvest bumbles with no style or taste. The name should have been the second red flag. Shame on me. I've been living back in NJ too long. I just didn't think pizza this bad was possible.
As the opening credits in the movie started to roll, we all looked at each other. We simultaneously pushed our plates away from us and toward the center of the coffee table. Friday Pizza Night was a bust.
I rose from my recliner, determined to save Friday Movie Night. "I'll get the Lucky Charms." read more