My love affair with Al Forno Ferruza is not just with the food. It started one summer afternoon when neighbor Kate and I went out for a walk. We stumbled across what used to be an Ethiopian grocery store and noticed it was being redone by some new occupants. Well, we didn’t just “notice”…we were ushered in by the new occupants as they moved in a huge pizza oven. “We’re opening a Sicilian Pizzeria”! He was so proud of his new oven…secondhand, but new to him, and represented his hopes and dreams.
What was an odd looking store with a thing or two on the shelves, an ATM and a cash register is now a cavernous open space with ceiling lamps hanging in odd places, mismatched tables and chairs and a huge bakery case that we were told would be filled with Italian pastries and fine homemade breads. Oh, and he mentioned that loose leaf teas would be available for purchase too. I don’t know, it all seemed like an odd mix, but they guy was so excited, I couldn’t help being excited too. Not much effort was being put into the place on a whole, for it was going to be about the food, our guide went on.
It seemed like most of the work he had done up to that point was the murals on the walls. The photo above is a wall that is painted outside…pretty fantastic. These murals are what bring the place a lot of its charm and they actually change the mood by the light they reflect on everything inside. Is that Mt. Vesuvius on one wall? Is that a serene forest with sap collection pails attached to sugar maples on the other? Is that Vermont? It didn’t seem to make sense. Sicily, Vermont.
He explained he is from upstate New York (hence the maple syrup mural) and his ancestry is Sicilian (hence the Mt. Etna reference). He was planning on opening for the next Last Thursday event. This was three days away and I couldn’t imagine one slice being served in that time frame. But if positive attitude has anything to do with it, I thought he had every chance in the world. He was so optimistic and had a dream that this would happen. I mean, he and his guys traveled 3000 miles to do it, after all.
Doors opened on that Last Thursday; determination, I tell you! I didn’t get a chance to eat there, but I did pass by and they seemed to have a few people in there. But with such a large space, they needed a few more people to really fill it. So we went that weekend and tried to make it look a little more busy for them…help them out and check it out at the same time.
We ordered a pizza and a stromboli at the counter. A couple of Oranginas! So, the counter…walk up and order off a huge chalkboard menu. To your left, a refrigerator case with some wild mushrooms for their use and for sale as well. Also in the case…gallons of maple syrup from, you guessed it, Upstate New York! Ha, this is kicking my butt. Behind the man who took our order is a young man who flings dough up into the air. Good thing they didn’t put any ceiling lights there. I could see greens that looked like they were just plucked from a local garden. And tomato sauces so red, you’d swear they were fake. Behind him, was “The Oven” in its final resting place. A tiny man stood on a box and slid in a pizza. Amazing.
So a funny thing we noticed about this place is, well, everyone that works here, um, might be a little bit stoned…and all male. This is very different than our other neighborhood pizzeria, Bella Faccia. Bella is staffed by mostly women and the service is unengaging, at best. There are a few good gals, but in general, they either hate me, or they are just mean to everyone. So the stoner boys are a welcome addition to the neighborhood and will give the girls a run for their money. Maybe even make them crack a smile. Such a stark contrast in staff just two blocks west. Oh, this guy…the one in the photo below, not stoned, but the patriarch of the family and also supremely gentlemanly.
Our order arrives in a good amount of time. But we notice the man who ordered long before us still had not received his “to-go” order. He is a very tense, type-A kind of guy. He is not happy and we watch him fidget as his anger grows. Out comes another order. And another. He jumps at each, but none is his. He’s had it and lets the boys know it. He storms off and walks out. The boys find his pizza on the side table as he rounds the corner outside. They give it to another, more friendly customer they’d actually like to see again. Everyone giggles. I love it here. Except I didn’t get fork. Where are the forks anyway?
Oh, the pizza? Crust: thin and tender, but crunchy, just the way I like it. The ingredients: As fresh as they looked when I was at the counter. No complaints. Just happiness all around. I know for the pizza boys, it’s all about the fare, but for this boy it’s more about the experience.
An experience that had Nicola and I perched on a comfy chair and couch, laughing on our own, sharing a bottle of wine, all while enjoying the laughter and camaraderie of of others while the glow of the walls enhanced the evening. Maybe it’s just me, but the quirkiness of Al Forno Ferruzza has got a place in my cheesy pizza-shaped heart.
