5 April 2020. Fourth week of COVID-19 quarantine.
When we lived in Rome, Friday nights were always pizza night or, as our friend and portiere Pellegrino dubbed it, “pizza venerdi.”
It was fun to mark the end of the workweek with an outing for pizza. Arriving home about 18:00 on an average Friday, I’d change my clothes and we’d journey anywhere from 15 to 75 minutes to one of our favorite spots or to hunt down a potential new favorite based on recommendations of friends. After three years, we had quite a directory of pizzerias both excellent and marginal.
The pizza has to be off-the-charts-good to warrant a 75-minute one-way trip by tram and on foot. Pizzeria da Remo was, indeed, worth it. We could, in contrast, walk 15 minutes to Taverna Rossini, the neighborhood joint where, upon receiving our phoned-in reservation at 18:00, by 20:30 our favorite waiter would have “our” table set including a bottle of our usual Nero d’Avola ready to pour.
Even in retirement, we continued pizza venerdi. In summer, we headed out very late, usually no earlier than 20:00, due to the heat. When it rained or we were really late and way across town we would sometimes take a taxi home. These Friday excursions could take three hours what with coming, going, and eating. Having pizza on Friday anchored the week. It was a date, It marked the beginning of the weekend.
In retirement, one needs to mark the days carefully less they all become a blur. (My brother says the week is 6 Saturdays and a Sunday for retirees.)
The same holds true when sheltering-in-place.
PIzza venerdi is back in the life of the Barton household. There is no restaurant dining and frankly, on a good day, not a lot of great pizza options. Our favorite is 15 minutes away and they offer take out, but a take out pizza 15-20 minutes after it is made? Puh-leeze! Not happening. We turned to Papa Murphy’s
We have not frequented Papa M of late as we have not been eating a lot of American pizza. At least it’s hot, easy, and sanitary. We order online so no cash exchanges hands, I wipe down the plastic wrap when I get it home before opening it, and we bake it at 425 degrees Fahrenheit. That should kill anything.
Ric says “It’s not Italian, but it’s tasty.”
We started this lockdown on a Friday, March 13, when we returned from Maui. Since then we have been good about shopping (mostly pickup, wearing gloves and masks as needed), we take out walks remote areas, and shout at our neighbors from 20 feet away. Friday marked the end of Week Three.
Pizza venerdi is a small indulgence to mark the passing of each week until we get to the other side.
What are you doing to mark the time? Finding any good pizza options out there?