HOLE-IN-ONE CELEBRATION AT DOWNTOWN HOUSE OF PIZZA

There’s some elemental, visceral connection between a hole-in-one golf shot and pizza, wings and beer…isn’t there? 

Well that’s what it felt like Thursday evening after my first hole-in-one; I just had to have some pizza and beer, and it had to be with the most important person in my world: Steph.

I’m not sure if it’s some kind of unspoken rule, one of those “man codes” that nobody really talks about yet follows, but I’ve noticed that guys don’t tend to give each other tips out on the golf course. Oh, they seem quite willing to give women more tips than they might want, but not other guys.

Fortunately, my golf buddy Chris breaks the code every now and then, not too frequently mind you, but enough to have helped my golf game over the past few years. Also fortunately, he gives tips about places to eat as well, and he did so in the aftermath of the hole-in-one experience.

No, I hadn’t heard of “Downtown Pizza” (actually “Downtown House of Pizza” I found out later); and since I hadn’t been too thrilled with my right around the corner favorite pizza place, why not try something new…after all this was a totally new experience anyway, right?

I got home, broke the news to Steph, asked if she’d like to do pizza and beer to celebrate (duh!), took a shower, and off we took to…although we didn’t know it yet…our new favorite place for Pizza, Downtown House of Pizza, or DHOP as I like to think of it now.

Although they didn’t have the outdoor window where you could pick up a slice on your way down the street, as we did on the way to or from the Crown Heights pool in Brooklyn when I was a kid, it was reminiscent of those days. 

The aroma of the authentic, real Italian (or Brooklyn Italian anyway) blend of sauce and cheese, the hustle and bustle of the artists behind the counter (well, that’s what they were), the plain practicality of the décor; the variety of dissected pies in the display case, all spoke to me of my childhood experiences of “real New York pizza!”

Funny thing though, here’s a DHOP experience that was so not New York, but at the same time was so New York, that I can’t help but shake my head with a smile. By the time we walked into DHOP, I was starving. After quickly perusing the substantial menu, we placed our order: A jumbo (20-inch) pie, half pepperoni and hamburg, half spinach and mushroom, 10 hot wings (which turned out to be absolutely delicious, even if a bit small), one Sam Adams and one Mich Ultra.

“That’ll be about 20 minutes.” “20 minutes! How am I supposed to hang out amidst all these aromas and visions for 20 minutes without going absolutely insane, as hungry as I was?” I asked Steph, “Should I just buy a slice to hold me over until the pie was done?” 

Well, just a few feet away, Bernice (we didn’t know her name yet), was delving into a hot slice of a cheese pie, and the doggone thing looked so inviting, that I couldn’t help myself.

“Would you mind loaning me a slice of that pie and I’ll pay you back when ours is ready,” I found myself asking. 

That is so not New York City as I remember it, in that you barely even look at other people directly in public places, much less intrude upon their space like I just had. But, at the same time, it was so New York City in that the unexpected can happen at any given moment, and all parties involved will act as though the experience were commonplace.

And that is how if flowed. Bernice just said, “Sure man, grab a slice; I understand,” or words to that effect. Grab a slice I did, and with great gratitude and relish. It was as good as it looked! Fortunately I wasn’t too hungry to share the slice with Steph, and she agreed, that we had found our new pizza home in Fort Myers.

Our order arrived in due time, and we spread it out on the counter, applied the appropriate fixings (gotta have some crushed red pepper and garlic powder), clinked bottles, and dug in. To steal from that ancient Campbell’s Soup commercial, “Mmmm, mmmm good!” I stuffed myself on two immense slices topped off by a few wings, and Steph managed the same with a little help from yours truly.

I ate a couple slices for lunch the next day, and I think my mom ate the last slice today (Sunday), making that a very economical celebratory meal! Oh, by the way, I did offer to pay Bernice and Donna (her dining partner) back for the slice they “loaned” us, but they graciously refused our repeated offers, saying merely, “Pay it forward.” We’d be glad to ladies!

In any event, you can look at the menu yourself to judge whether the prices are good. You can walk into DHOP to determine whether the décor suits your fancy. Most importantly, you can get down there and taste some of the best New York style pizza this side of the G. W. Bridge. 

I know whenever we have something worthy of a pizza-and-beer celebration, perhaps another hole-in-one or maybe winning the World Amateur Handicap Championship, we’ll be sure to find ourselves back at DHOP, and maybe Bernice and Chris would care to join us.

Until next, no foot-wedges allowed…T. A.