‘Everything you see I owe to spaghetti.’
~ Sophia Loren
Well, I don’t know about any svelte figure and spaghetti, but I sure can ascribe my bulging belly and tight jeans to pizza – Village Pizzeria that is. We recently had family and town, and like most of the people around here, we take people out to ski and feed them exorbitant amounts of food to ensure they have a good time and come back. By then end of the week, we all had at least one hamburger coma a piece and were about one chocolate cookie away from going into diabetic shock. In serious situations such as these, I have found there is no better remedy than pizza and beer.
So, we headed to Village Pizzeria and ordered some minestrone soup, caesar salad and pizza – classic. The thing about soup, salad and pizza is it is generational and personal. No matter how young or old you are, you’ve tasted these delicacies, and probably have a favorite somewhere in the world. You may prefer the thin crust of Italy, or the grease of Pizza Hut, but whatever your fancy, your new tried Italian experience either comes up short or it doesn’t. I’m happy to report the Village Pizzeria did not disappoint.
The minestrone was good, a little on the acidic side, but good nonetheless. The caesar was tasty, but could resurrect Julius himself with its pungent dressing. It’s heavy on the anchovies and garlic, but the portion size is more than generous, so there was enough for everyone to have a bite or two. This turned out to be important because it kept me from being the only one at the dinner table with hellacious breath. Date food this salad is not. The grand finale, the pizza, was de-lish and some of the best I’ve had in a long time. The crust was perfect, there were ample quantities of meat, cheese and vegetables, and a large pizza was in fact, a large pizza.
I don’t know about you but service is everything to me when I go out to eat. Exceptional service makes a good meal divine, and poor service makes you want to pick up your meal, no matter how exquisite it is, and chuck it at your waiter’s head. I expect good service when I go out, and I have to admit, it’s been a struggle to find any sort of consistently high-quality service here in town. Visiting the pizzeria restored my faith in humanity. Ok, maybe not, but it was nice to feel as good as I did walking through the door.
We were greeted by the hostess (who also turned out to be our server, Karen), and I have to tell you, she never seemed more pleased to see a group of people. It’s not like we were the only people in there giving her something to do, she was just genuinely happy to see us. Ding! One point for Karen. She quickly took our drink and dinner order, but didn’t quickly return with anything. Beep! Minus one point for Karen. We have a 19-month old baby, and when you have a kid that age, waiting half a second as they scream in your face and try to rip off your nose, seems like a lifetime. Nothing gets the conversation flowing like a little booze, and nothing kills a party like having a bunch of hungry, thirsty people at a table with nothing to occupy their hands and lips. After we asked another waitress to find Karen, she returned with our spirits and iced tea and a little cheese bread for the baby. Ding, Ding, Ding! One million points for Karen! As our little man quietly munched on cheese bread, all was right in the world again. The food came out shortly thereafter and we shoved it down our throats with the same passion and intensity of the little Japanese man competing in the Oscar Meyer Weiner championships.
Our busboy, Anthony, must have been Karen’s brother, because they shared the same glorious smile and warm demeanor. Anthony acted as though removing the dishes from our table was his life’s greatest joy, and although I hadn’t finished my meal, he asked for my plate so sweetly, I couldn’t help but give it to him. We left Karen and Anthony a sizable tip, which is what you do when you have great service and a tasty meal, and we waddled out to our cars.
As we drove away, burping up cheese and pepperoni, we thought about how none of us could have asked for a more enjoyable dining experience, and how we couldn’t fit one more morsel of food into our bellies if we wanted to. That was until we got home and had the last of those chocolate cookies.
~ The Village Pizzeria is located at 11329 Deerfield Drive in Truckee (in the Long’s Shopping Center), 530-587-7171.
