Pizza

Went for a stroll and decided I should have a pizza for dinner. I mean – that's a no-brainer on your first night in Italy, no?
So I walk down the little dark streets and then see this hole-in-the-wall Pizzeria with about 500 people gathering around it, ordering, waiting for or eating their pizzas. None of them looked or sounded like a tourist, so I decided that place can't be that bad.
It was a very familial affair. The dude's job was to stretch the pizzas, then his wife (I assume. Maybe his part-time lover) would ditch her post at the cash register and do the whole topping thing while he does, well, nothing, then she gets back to taking orders and he puts them all in the oven and starts working on the next round.
In my infinite wisdom I thought it would be a good idea to order a spectacular pizza, so while everybody was ordering the simple stuff, I went for something a little extravagant.
Not a smart move.
The minute I grabbed the first slice, the entire extravaganza slipped right off it, leaving me with nothing but the (perfectly crispy) crust. I had to develop a pretty sophisticated enveloping strategy to deal with the rest of the pizza, attracting the attention of pretty much every single Italian person in the area. I actually think they saw it coming, so all eyes were on me for the entire time. Was probably the cultural equivalent of eating Vegemite with a spoon.
Oh well, learn something new everyday. It's back to basic pizzas tomorrow.