The Atkins' had a little family outing today.
In an ill-conceived attempt at recreating my childhood in New York City, we went to Hollywood today to participate in the Left Coast version of the Feast of San Gennaro.
Every fall we'd make our way to the twisty, turning, crowded streets of Little Italy for the Feast. All the curb-side tables of the local restaurants were full of patrons. The streets were filled with booths of all kinds: rides for the kids; pizza (real pizza I should say); spicy sausage sandwiches; cannoli; zeppoli; calzone; religious statuary; and all manner of tchotchkes (OK, now who really knows how to spell that?).
It was a always a brisk fall day filled with sights and smells, fun and excitement. We'd walk. We'd eat. We'd look. We'd have fun.
It seemed a brilliant plan for a family outing. I could share a bit of my childhood memories with my family. Well, not so much.
The LA version of the Feast took place in what seemed a parking lot. There were some cheesy rides, a few chance booths, and some food booths.
Our first stop was for zeppoli. Zeppoli are basically Italian donuts. More like a begniet since there's no hole. They're fried dough covered with powdered sugar. You can get them at nearly any pizzaria in New York. I loved them as a kid. As an adult, not so much. The zeppoli were a: overpriced, and b: tough.
We then strolled around in 100 degree heat, doing a little fair reconnnaissance. I ran into a friend I know from work who was there with his son. I took comfort in the fact that he was melting as well.
We decided the fair sucked and we were going to leave but decided to stop for some gelato. Zoe chose vanilla. I opted for a mixed berry/chocolate combo. Chuck chose a hot dog from a vendor across the way. Zoe hated her ice cream. Mine was adequate.
On the way back to the car we walked by a pizza vendor. Chuck ordered a slice of pepparoni. I took a bite. Oh. My. God. It was pizza. Real pizza. It tasted like the pizza I had growing up.
We found a spot in the shade. Zoe and I ate our ice cream. Chuck his pizza. All of a sudden the ice cream was not such a great idea. I went back and got two more slices. Pepperoni for Z and plain cheese for me. My slice was good, but not as good as Chuck's for some reason.
The fair, as is turns out, was much like the pizza, not as good
Posted by beth at September 21, 2003 07:23 PMIf it was true New York (City) pizza, it was worth whatever it took. They don't have it up here in San Francisco. I can think of one or two places that come close, but no bell, no whistle, no cigar.
Posted by: Bob at September 23, 2003 07:20 PM