In another signal that it’s the right time to move, I discovered that my favorite pizza place has closed.
Pizza Pantry has been part of my life… well, since before I was born. My dad was a customer back in the 60s, and I grew up on their square pizza with a piece of sausage sitting neatly in the middle of every piece. In recent years, my dad always appreciated it when I brought him a big Fillmore sub from Pizza Pantry.
The same lady worked there seemingly from the beginning; my dad knew her 40 years ago and she was still there up until the end.
I wish I had ordered that pizza I kept talking about from Pizza Pantry. Now it’s too late, and I can’t even put it down as one of the things I’ll miss — because I already miss it.
