s the humidity, temper…t explain in any way, is it had to be warm weather. I don’t understand those parameters either, but just as a drone bee knows the humidity, temperature, and angle of light that indicates some strange spot at a specific altitude in the sky where he might get laid, when the stars started to align at our house my brothers and I would begin to say, “Maybe we’ll get pizza”. When we did it was a single pie, cold from the trip from pizza parlor to kitchen. My mother would …
This is less a comment about the intuitional accuracy of drone bees and your brothers, and more of an indication of the importance each set of creatures ascribed to the desired act.
The only other correspondence between pies (of which pizza is a subset) and sex was that terrible movie starring Jason Biggs and the regret it inspired that my high school self never met a girl from band camp who looked like Alyson Hannigan.
P.S.: +10 for the laughs; an extra +40 because that’s how much I love pizza.
My all-time favorite pizza spot was La Barbera’s in Santa Monica. It was a college favorite back in my time at UCLA (probably because the pies were huge but inexpensive, and I was a ravenous athlete burning 3000–4000 calories per day). They closed a few years later, so I’m only left with those sensation memories you wrote about.
Fast forward (holy shit) forty years, and my pie of choice comes from a place called Uncle Ernie’s — a BBQ chicken pizza with cilantro and red onions that is just amazing. Even though the recorded message that describes the specials (I’ve never gotten through directly, so they must always be busy) sounds like a New York mob guy, the owner is a former California surfer named Steve.
It’s one of those hole-in-the-mall neighborhood places that long-time residents used to guard as their special secret. With Yelp, it’s not only one of the best places in the Valley, I actually met a family from France on vacation that found the tiny restaurant online as part of their road trip itinerary (fly to LAX, drive to hotel in Chatsworth, dinner at Uncle Ernie’s, then travel the next morning to Santa Barbara, wine country and parts unknown).
Second on my list is my daughter-in-law’s dad’s house. He was born in Italy, moved to New York when he was about six, and eventually found success on the West Coast. He designs and crafts high end jewelry as a business, but works in marble and make his own custom furniture for a hobby. Naturally, he had a pizza oven built in his back yard and occasionally has a party where we get hand made pizzas with only the finest ingredients that come from an authentic Italian deli.