In 1955, my sister Peg began attending Wilmington College. She was the first of my family to venture into the big old world outside of Fruit Ridge Road. Even though Wilmington was only about an hour away at the time, when you are five it seemed like she had moved to the other side of the earth.
Thing is though was that my sister would come home almost one weekend a month and her visits were center stage attention at our home. Not only did Peg come home, but she introduced us to many things we had never seen or heard of. Things like five different types of Solitaire. The college had clubs that students could join called fraternities for boys and sororities for girls and their names were in some foreign language they called Latin. But the best thing was when Peg came home one Friday night and introduced the family to a new and unheard of type of food.
Now as I have written many times I was very familiar with awesome dishes of foods cooked by many of what I still call the best cooks in the countryside. But Peg brought with her something we had never seen or heard of before. That Friday night she brought us a PIZZA! Today it is probably the most common meal that can be bought, thawed or delivered to your home. But that night she had brought what looked like the container for dinner rolls. The difference was inside the tubed container was a piece of pizza dough that was to be rolled out into a square on a pie pan. Then there was a little can of tomato paste to be opened and spread all over the dough. Last was a small and I mean small packet of parmesan cheese that got sprinkled for the topping? When it had baked and we each got a piece I tasted something that tasted unlike anything I had ever had. After only a couple bites, and this first pizza was very bland to say the least, I came to the summary that I could acquire a taste to like this dish called pizza.
Peg brought these Betty Crocker pizzas home with her on her next few trips for our extra special treat and a taste of Italy. I know that we once went to our cousin Tom Houser’s house on Montgomery Road and he ordered two extra-large pizzas from what he called a pizzeria. I didn’t know what that was but let me tell you that when it arrived and I got to taste it I came to a huge conclusion. There was more to this pizza business than Peg had brought home. Pizza has an unmistakable taste that can’t be confused with any other dish.
A couple years passed and after my brother Ben had married and I was 12 he and his wife invited me to go with them one Sunday afternoon to a new place called Cherry Grove Plaza. To see all those businesses in one area was eye popping. There were more stores in this place than all of Felicity or Bethel had in their towns. But on the way home Ben said they were Hungry and would I mind if we stopped in a restaurant to get a bite to eat. I’m twelve and full grown height wise but bottomless when it came to eating, so no, I didn’t mind! When we got into Withamsville Ben pulled into a place that the sign said was Pasquale’s. As we were entering this place Ben explained this was a pizzeria. My memory kicked in and I thought to myself “so this is a pizzeria?” But I asked Ben why did they need an entire restaurant only to make pizzas in? Then he explained with the help of a menu that the Italians were good at cooking much more than pizza.
Reading the menu caused me to drool! I had to try something and Ben said they were going to order a pizza and we each could order a sandwich. I ordered a Stromboli. This sandwich along with a peperoni, sausage and mushroom pizza filled me unlike anything I had ever consumed and at that age a boy can consume a lot! After this meal I became in love with pizza and Italian foods.
In the mid to late 60s pizzerias began to appear closer to home. In high school guys took dates to the Pasquales’ in Georgetown and if we were ordering out there was Kim’s Pizza in Bethel. I frequented both of these places as they served quality pizzas’. When I graduated from high school my cousin Walt Houser and
I farmed and batched together for five years on Fruit Ridge. At that time there wasn’t what is considered fast food yet. There wasn’t any burger doodles except Frisch’s’ in New Richmond or Forestville and both were a long haul to bring back a meal. Believe it or not Walt and I weren’t great cooks so that left pooling our money and taking turns to drive to Bethel or Georgetown. It is safe to say we ate pizza as frequently as we took baths, which was often. Also understand that week old cold pizza will not cause one to become ill.
When I married frozen pizza was in the grocery stores and Links Restaurant had opened in Felicity and they also sold pizza. Since cooking for two wasn’t much fun my wife figured out early that hot pizza and extra cheese on it would fill me up any and every day. When our children came along they adapted to pizza immediately. Pizza from Links’ in Felicity and when we moved to Bethel we then favored Grammas. Also we mixed in a hoagie from time to time. These days when the kids come to visit my grandchildren ask their papa if we can have pizza. They already know I’m not going to veto their request.
So it is safe to say that my sister didn’t have a clue I was going to take to her surprise so greatly. Also after reading this most folks are going to think my blood is tomato paste. But here is where I’m going to say that the majority of the population today eats as much if not more than me. Maybe the Italians get the credit for inventing it but the Americans have the undeniable distinction for consuming it all!
Rick Houser grew up on a farm near Moscow in Clermont County and loves to share stories about his youth and other topics. He may be reached at houser734@yahoo.com