Pizza Pizza

Last week my favorite pizzeria back home in Toronto, Pizza Gigi, was shutdown when police raided the place and discovered $1 million worth of marijuana, half an ounce of crack cocaine, Oxycocet and OxyContin inside.  I will miss their delicious pizza Margherita with fresh basil that was always delivered so promptly to my door - though if the Gigi staff were all amped up on amphetamines this would explain their lightning fast delivery times.  I thought Gigi was the ONE, however when I moved to NYC I realized there are a lot of other great pizzas out there!  While I was home last weekend, I met up with my friend and fellow pizza addict Grouch (as in Oscar the Grouch).  He's a former coworker so unconcerned with the feelings of other people that he has no problem brashly telling them EXACTLY what's on his mind.  For instance when I told him about this blog his reaction was "You have way too much time on your hands. I can't believe you blog about useless sh** about your life AND have time to do it."  Nice.  While I can't rely on Grouch for kind words, politeness or sometimes common decency, I CAN rely on him for excellent pizza restaurant recommendations - and I was ready to again explore the pizzas that Toronto has to offer.  Grouch and Mrs. Grouch (yes this saint of a woman actually married him) brought me to their go-to pizza place near their home in Vaughan located in an industrial park and bizarrely named Ice Cream Patio.

(wood-oven deliciousness!)

I didn't even need to look at the menu to know what I wanted as I always judge a pizza place on the pizza Margherita.  A great pizza does not need to hide under a pile of toppings - a well seasoned, tomato-y sauce, gooey mozzarella and yummy crust should speak for itself.  My pizza was placed in front of me by my overly spray tanned, Paul Bunyan proportioned waiter and it looked and smelled delicious - and it tasted even better!  While I enjoyed this pizza, I couldn't commit - too hard to do long distance.  Grouch informed me that he would be in Wilmington, Delaware for work this week and wanted to drive down to NYC to continue our pizza fest.  So Tuesday night, Grouch got into his rental car and drove the two hours into the city to join me at Mario Batali's Otto Enoteca, a place I've been wanting to try for a while.  We were seated and Grouch hilariously and loudly grouched about work ("boring"), his lame coworkers ("I don't care about your kids") and his trips to Wilmington's finest dining and drinking establishments ("ghetto").  But as soon as our pizzas arrived and he started eating, he calmed down like a baby with a pacifier.  The obnoxious comments were put on hold while he chewed and chomped away.  I strayed slightly from my Margherita and got the Romana that had anchovies, capers and chill peppers.  It was good, though not as good as my current NYC love - Motorino (a reliable, classic pie).

(yes I like anchovies!)

Grouch dropped me off at my place and headed back to Wilmington.  Later that night I was perusing Gawker and discovered an article (find it here) about an 82 year old woman who had ordered a pepperoni pizza and two diet cokes from Domino's every day for the last three years when suddenly the store noticed she hadn't ordered in three days.  Her regular delivery woman went by to check on her and called 911 when the door went unanswered, saving the elderly woman who had fallen and was unable to call for help.  Pizza, her faithful companion of three years, had saved her life.  I was overjoyed at this happy pizza news after the drug den pizza palace bust of last week.  If me, Stamps and Giggles do not manage to form the new Golden Girls, I could definitely see myself eating a pizza daily as a little old lady.  And since Domino's just won't do, I will continue sampling pizzas until I find - MY one.