When I was just a teenager in Ohio, Pizza Hut brought out its stuffed crust pizza. A revelation! It made… so much sense! Stuff the crust of the pizza with cheese! For the next week, I couldn’t sleep and talked of nothing else. How could no one have thought of this before? Worn numb by my pleading, my parents finally acquiesced and we drove out to the Pizza Hut in Findlay. Oh, happy day! Trembling, I cautiously bit into a slice, crust first, and instantly awoke from my delusions. Stuffed-crust pizza was actually kind of gross. I never ordered it again.
Until last week. Someone told us about the stuffed-crust pizzas of Sciuscia, on Via Dante, and my body seized up with ecstasy, as though I were fifteen again. “Careful”, the angel on my left shoulder warned. “You’ve been burnt before!”
“Nonsense”, whispered the devil into my right ear. “You’re in Sicily! A stuffed-crust pizza in Sicily has nothing to do with Pizza Hut.” He had a point. “Finally, your long-cherished dream can be realized!”
Soon enough, we were seated at Sciuscia. Jürgen must have been alarmed by my sweat-soaked shirt and nervous, eager eyes, but was kind enough to keep quiet. After ordering, the wait seemed an eternity. The waiter once approached us with two pizzas, only to set them down at the neighboring table. I don’t know, they had probably ordered before us, but I could take no more. I leaped atop my chair and howled “STUFF CAAA-RUSSSST”, trying to rip my shirt off.
Eventually our pizzas arrived. And, of course, they were better than Pizza Hut’s. Thousands of times better. Like comparing Beethoven to the Black Eyed Peas. The crusts at Sciuscia can be stuffed with a variety of cheeses and sauces; ours were both with ricotta. The pizzas themselves were perfect and huge. Despite my excitement and hunger, I couldn’t finish everything.
Not surprisingly, Sciuscia is a popular place, and reservations are recommended. It was the best pizza we’ve had in Palermo. Thank you, devil. I should listen to you more often.