A pizza we couldn't refuse

Acting on advice from longer-resident Canadians, we searched out an Italian restaurant in Grecia - Cuchina Italiano. A narrow frontage with paned glass to the street, a single door opened to a long narrow wood-panelled dining room with about 8 tables; at the end a counter with over-hanging cabinets, then a white-walled, neon-lit kitchen at back. In that kitchen, a short stout man with buzz cut white hair rubbed the shoulders of a woman. Only one other customer was there, an ex-police woman from California with a little Chihuahua poking his nose out of her shoulder bag on the chair beside.

Around the walls were black and white stills of famous movie scenes - Clint chomping a cigar from a Fist Full of Dollars, Yule Brinner in magnificent black ready to draw from The Magnificent Seven, Humphrey Bogart, Marylin Monroe, dozens more. Eventually, the woman came out with two menus and a broad Brooklyn "ha-wah-ya?"

We sat and ordered a pizza from the woman, after assurances that it was thin crust "Noo Yaw-wuk" style. When we asked where the house wine came from, she laughed and said "Grapes." This was shaping up to be a Seinfeld episode.

The wine (from Chile) arrived, and a glass later, the pizza - hot, aromatic - perched on a pizza stand with hot chile flakes and parmesean shakers beneath. We started in - it was indeed thin crust, but likely a thick crust mashed flat and not permitted to rise. It was an 1/8 inch of tough white dough, that took some determination to chew.

We learned on second passes from the woman that they were from "New Joisey" and had been there "fo-ah yay-ahs". We had heard that the man was named Ronnie Gambino. I started to connect the dots. After we finished, I went up to pay. Mr. Gambino was sitting at the last table, smoking and surveying his two customers. I said "I didn't like the pizza." He looked up with a steady gaze - to which I smiled and said "Actually, it tasted great". We fell to taw-king. He was on the outs with his jealous business neighbors cuz he doesn't put up with any crap. They expected him to fold long ago and he hasn't. He says - yoo know how many staff he hired in the first 5 months?? 32! "They come hee-ah thinkin' I'm fresh meat, but after they figure I know what's goin' on - they-ah gawn". With that he makes a slicing motion with his right palm over the upturned left palm. This has a fatal connotation.

He was born in Sicily and "used to live in New Yaw-wuk and New Joisey, then ran a bar in south Flah-rida". After talking to his son (who lives in Atlantic City!), he came hee-ah. It began to dawn on me that satisfactory returns from this restaurant business may not be the sole reason he has been here for years. At one point, he was called to the phone to take an order - after some back and forth discussion, we overheard "What? Are you stupid? You stupid!?" Phone slams down. Now that's customer relations - Noo Yaw-wuk style.

A fascinating character - we left thanking him for a very good meal, Mr. Gambino! It was a pizza we could not refuse...