Is it Famous Ray's, or Original Famous Ray's?

An update from Italy.

It's as good as they say it is. (The 'za that is)

The first few days providing good 'za, but nothing to write home about.

Then, on our first night in Rome, it happened. And you could argue that it had to happen. The night before (Christmas) we gorged like never before. Started with a litre of wine, moved onto a salad, before the primo patti (Spaghetti Carbonara). It felt right to split a big pizza. It felt even more right to then get a steak. And some ice cream afterwards? Why not.

Needless to say, the next day was a bit rough. It felt like a goddamned revolution was going on in my bowels.

So I was a bit sluggish in Rome, through the Colosseum and all that. Couldn't talk much. Grumpiness was working it's way through me. And lady luck decides to stop and take a photo of a wreath on a statue. (She's got a serious hard-on for all things Christmas)

I rolled my eyes. Give me a break. I kept walking. Not two seconds later I was the victim of a speeding Fiat, who drove right through a puddle and gave me a full body full of said puddle.

Oh fuck it all.

But lady luck was cool, comforting. And she laughed at me too.

So we went back to the hostel and changed, cleaned up. I was looking for divine intervention. We decided that (I think I might have decided, but I'm learning about compromise in relationships) we had to check out Pizzeria Baffeto, which has been called "A Roman Institution". We found the joint, and found a line-up of 25 strong.

We waited our turn, and when we got to the front the door a terribly unkind old Gino screamed at us. How many were we? 2. He sat us at a table with this Spanish couple. We made time and waited for the 'za. We had incredible seats, right behind the action. We saw it all go down.

We waited another hour for our 'za. It came, and I got weak in the knees. It was entirely too simple, and way too delicious. I really don't know what they did. Lady luck put it right, actually. "I don't know what they put in their food here, but it tastes exactly like it's supposed to taste" When she said this, she was referring to her tomato soup from a few days earlier, but whatever.

The entire time Ginos are screaming, waiters are delivering 8 pizzas (I counted) on one arm. It was frantically compelling.

When we left, we bounced on cobblestone streets. (The litre of wine could've played a part in this.) It was just so simple. How did it happen?

Rome turned itself into a city I put near the top, after that meal alone. So I feel no shame in telling you this-

It was the single best 'za of my life.

And now we're in Naples, with reservations for "Brandi", where pizza was first served around 118 years ago. Here's hoping...

More photos and shit to come later.

So, hope everyone enjoyed their turkey.