by Richard Serra

Created on: June 30, 2008   Last Updated: May 03, 2011

A while back the question was posed for getting an idea as to what a person would order for a last meal. This is relatively easy to answer in my case, and it would most likely be what I love the most of everything I normally eat. I can make a spaghetti sauce with meatballs that rival the very best, but I can't make a pizza that would do so, and I love pizza as much or more than I do spaghetti and meatballs.

That said, I feel that if I'm going to consume a lot of calories, it has to be from eating the best of whatever it may be that would provide all those calories, and there is no way I would settle for mediocrity when it comes to pizza.

I see a lot of raves here and there about some of these pizza chains, but lets face it, if they who patronize those chain shops would taste the difference between a small family owned pizza shop, and that of a chain, they would travel miles to get to that perfect pie for the ultimate taste that would satisfy one's hunger.

Quite often you can find these rare old fashioned pizzas where the owners keep the same winning recipes year after year, and these little shops are often buried nice and cozy within a small town or city. Word of mouth is the advertising, and there are usually no empty tables during the prime time for these delicacies, not to mention the waiting time to just get a table.

But when you find such a gem, cost or travel doesn't matter as all your mind can think of is your date with a pie from heaven, and they really are out there. So where does one find such a shop that would provide such satisfaction that would keep you coming back week after week, year after year? Well, in my case, growing up in a small town dominated by Italians and Irish, we had several family pizza shops that all served pies that rivaled each other in quality, but were different in taste.

I remember what that taste sensation was, and as years went by, I found that making a great pie was a lost art, at least in my little home town. As luck would have it, I happen to get lost in an area I wasn't familiar with in Trenton NJ, and found myself looking for a way to get home because I was rather hungry and frustrated, and I just wanted to get home.

My luck changed when I pulled up to a corner pizza shop that had a crowd waiting outside, and I thought I'd ask for directions from someone, and when I lowered my window, the fragrance of excellence had permeated the air outside the restaurant as the smell of an old fashion tomato pie with

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