An Imagined Conversation Between Chazz Palminteri and Me about Chazz: A Bronx Original

Me:  Hi Chazz!  Thanks for having me at your restaurant here in Baltimore, Chazz: A Bronx Original.

Chazz:  You’re welcome.  You’re very welcome…

Me:  Chazz, I have to admit, what you’re saying is very nice, but for some reason, the way you are saying that makes me think you might want to beat me up.

Chazz:  No, I’m very sincere.  I just have a naturally intimidating voice.

Me: Oh!  My bad then!

Chazz:  That’s right, your bad…

Me: :/ (this is how my face looked at that imagined moment)

Chazz:  I KID!!!

Me: HAHAHAHA!… But seriously, what set’s Chazz: A Bronx Original apart from other Italian restaurants?  I mean, I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical about this place when I first heard about it.

Chazz:  Skeptical, huh?  Well, we are one of the few coal-oven pizza restaurants around.  Our pizzas cook in around 90 seconds from the intense heat so that the flavors of the ingredients still have a freshness about them.  Also, this is no kitshy place.  We bring the goods with high quality ingredients and food.

Me:  I know, right!  I was surprised at the selections.  For example, to start I had Burrata cheese, which is a cow’s milk mozze that you don’t see much of anywhere.  It was creamy and delicious, especially paired with those balsamic tomatoes.  Aris, your manager last night, recommended the combo, and he knew his stuff.

Chazz:  Surprised you say?

Me:  Totally.  And then my awesome server, Emily, brought me out a Sidecar (the old school cocktail that was one of Hemingway’s favorites), a coal-oven cooked Margherita pizza, and a veal meatball topped with a whipped ricotta – all specialties of the house.  The drink was stiff, but good, the meatball had a great flavor to it, and the pizza honestly knocked my socks off.  The pizza sauce was really fresh-tasting and had both a sweetness and a bite to it.  I’m serious, I wasn’t expecting the food to be so special.

Chazz: Seriously, kid.  You can stop with the “I wasn’t expecting” stuff already. >:| (his face)

Me:  Sorry, sir :0

Chazz: fuggedaboutit

Me:  Really, Chazz?  You say that?

Chazz:  No.  You imagined this conversation.  That came from your brain — so ignorant (he said as he walked away into the sunset)

Me: (to his fading visage) Touche, Imaginary Chazz Palminteri… touche.