Vincent’s Pizza

I was going to be very upset with myself, but then… I drive by this Vincents (which is one of a couple franchises of the original on Ardmore Blvd.) and today I decide to stop by. The space itself is pretty dumpy. It’s mostly a take out joint, but has a bunch of tables and a few plasmas in the corners. It’s actually two restaurants in one location. There is a «Rudy’s Sub’s» and a «Vincents Pizza». They don’t have alcohol yet, but I was told by the owner Ron, an old acquaintance that he’s going to get it by the end of the month and then they’ll have a full bar, but I’m guessing will most likely do 6 pack business even though they’ll have room for about 10 bar stools. I was actually planning on getting a turkey sub but Ron talked me into getting a pie because he said he could make one better than the original. He also told me that to have a franchise from Vincent means you have to follow strict guidelines with respect to product and the like so it’s as close to the original as possible. So, I conceded and am sure to my arteries displeasure went ahead and ordered a pie. I got a small «E. B. A» (everything but anchovies). First of all to call this small is a misnomer it is 6 slices, but easily as big as any large pizza you’ll get from domino’s and the like. He makes it and I take it home without trying to get oil on the car seats because for some reason here they don’t use boxes, but put it on a slab of cardboard and wrap it in wax paper. The pizza itself is packed with toppings in a big greasy mess. There was a ton of grease and cheese. And, the toppings were great quality. The sausage seemed homemade. The other vegetables were top quality (red and yellow green peppers for example and not just green). The pizza is good, as good as the original I’m not quite ready to say that but good all the same and I’ll probably try it again without the mountain of toppings. Okay, now to why I was going to be upset. I had one slice and was full. I mean uncomfortably full. I dont’ recall literally in my whole life having just one slice. I fall into a brief but intense depression figuring all the ahi tuna and chai lattes’ have taken my last once of manhood away from me. Have I really been reduced to this? Next will I have to admit that I enjoy watching Gray’s anatomy? I decide nay there must be a reason for this occurrence. I stare at the pizza for a while and decide I must find a way to «man up», I try and no go. There is no way I’m downing another slice. Then feeling like a beaten man I decide to weigh this monster that stares at me in the kitchen. I try my little kitchen scale and there is no way this is going to work, too bulky, too much weight, so I do something I’m not proud of I wrap the pizza safely in plastic wrap and walk upstairs to my bathroom, get out the scale and I weigh the damn thing. I’m a grown man who is weighing a pizza on his homedics bathroom scale, yep wtf? However, it was well worth it, it turns out this pizza weighs a little over 5 lbs. even after I had eaten one of the six slices. This is a 6 lb. «small» pizza. That means my slice was about 16 oz. of greasy goodness. I am vindicated!