You Can Go Home Again - To the House of Pizza & Calzone

The first memory I have of eating pizza, my very favorite food, was at the House of Pizza & Calzone on Union Street, between Hicks and Columbia Streets. I was probably still a toddler when my Nana brought me from her house around the corner on President Street, sat me on the counter that used to line the wall, and ordered two slices of pizza. On one she vigorously shook the crushed red pepper shaker (that one was for her) and the other she folded in half, handed it to me and said “chew it good, be careful that you don’t choke.”

I grew up going to the House of Pizza & Calzone, having a slice at the counter after shopping at Frank’s Department Store or any of the other stores that lined Union and Columbia Streets. My family still orders from there every Good Friday, following the 3:00 service and before the start of the procession. When I was pregnant with my second son and my first son was at Cobble Hill Playgroup, I would go there for lunch and polish off an entire calzone by myself. The menu was always the same: pizza, Neopolitan and Sicilian, golden, deep fried calzones (never any ham on Friday whether it was Lent or not), and, on weekends, some hot, sugary zeppoles. A few years back, when I heard that John and Onofrio, the former owners of the House of Pizza & Calzone were retiring, I went into a little panic. I ran down to Union Street, ordered a load of fried calzones and froze them, just in case. Well, the House of Pizza & Calzone may have changed hands and it may look a lot different but they still make some great pizza and the best deep-fried calzones so I don’t have to worry anymore.

Last night, I had the great fortune to have a mini-reunion with some of my Sacred Hearts of Jesus & Mary Elementary School classmates. A small group of us met in the back garden at the House of Pizza & Calzone and enjoyed pizza, salad, and the sheer pleasure of being together again. People came from as far away as California and as near as a few blocks up Union Street. We have all gone our own ways, grown older and maybe wiser, but deep down, we are the same group of kids that, for the most part, attended school together for eight consecutive years. We were taught by the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart and some rather progressive young lay teachers, back when corporal punishment in the classroom was common. We all came from the same place: the working-class neighborhood of Carroll Gardens (before it was called that), comprised of families of modest means, old world values, parents who worked very hard, and children who did not have much in the way of material things. We spent so much time together on a daily basis that our school friends were an extension of our families. In addition to being in the classroom we walked to and from school together, played and ate lunch together, hung out after school, and went to church together, every First Friday before school and every Sunday at 9:00 a.m.

We’ve had three reunions in the last five years. We were practically delirious the night of the first one which was a big bash. The next two were a little more subdued but in some ways, more meaningful. You see some of us have passed on and perhaps that fact and the knowledge that, yes, of course we are getting older, makes us appreciate being together for a few hours all the more. It doesn’t matter if you were a cool kid or a geeky one back in the day (I was definitely in the latter group), we are just so comfortable and happy anytime we meet. Our fondness, affection, and love for each other is absolutely palpable. Being in an old favorite place like the House of Pizza & Calzone, having pizza with some of your old, favorite friends - it doesn’t get much better than that. God bless and long live the Class of 1973 (and 1972, 1974, ....). Love you all!