To me, Saizeriya was the equivalent of a college cafeteria—a place where students could pay a modest amount to enjoy affordable, abundant Italian food, ranging from Margherita rounds and creamy pesto pasta to garlic escargots with warm pita. In fact, I had my very first taste of that French delicacy during my sophomore year, paying less than $3 for a plate of six.
Dining there also completely changed my perspective on pizza. Before then, I only knew the fun-sized pies from American fast-food chains. They’d arrive in massive, grease-soaked cardboard boxes with a little plastic toy (like in cereal boxes) and packets of chili flakes and fake parmesan thrown into the corner. Nothing felt less fair than getting a 1/8ᵗʰ of a slice that only had half a round of pepperoni and too much sausage; the division was never even.
It was at Saizeriya that I discovered how Europeans enjoy pizza (technically, the restaurant serves Itameshi¹), which is by not sharing at all! A win-win for all parties. Everyone gets their own diner-plate round with thinner crust, topped with more cheese and meat. You can choose to grease it up with olive oil, slice it into squares, wedges, and domes, or do nothing at all.
Suddenly, pizza was no longer strictly associated with birthday parties or Christmas celebrations. It could be enjoyed on a solo date night or with a friend who wanted risotto while you insisted on hot honey on a cheese pizza.
The cost of committing to a whole was much lower. 🍕 ⋆⭒˚.⋆
Anyway, onto the focal point of this entry: half a decade later, this specific Saizeriya² gave me a whole new perspective on the chain. This time around, the space transformed into a cruise buffet. Not because the food was all-you-can-eat (I wish!) or free for all, but because the seating area was spacious and brightly lit, complete with a drink bar to the side and people chatting face-to-face as if they were on vacation (literally, we were at the core district of tourism) on a Monday evening.
Servers were hustling in and out with identical plastic plates, and guest piling in and out for refills. There was a strange theatrical formality in the air, with costumed waiters serving cartoonish food to casually dressed guests. Anyone who’d been on a cruise could attest to what I’m evoking. Perhaps, unconsciously I was longing for the past.
We ordered a small jug of vino blanco ($3), a ham and egg pizza ($5), a Caesar salad ($2.50), chicken doria ($4), and the escargots ($3). e and I felt as though we were celebrating something on the horizon as we raised our plastic glasses and phones and cheered to “better results.” °🥂⋆.ೃ🍾࿔*:･
How I wish I were taken off-grid right now, gazing out at those vibrant azure hues.
Footnotes
- Japanese-Italian fusion
- Saizeriya at Ximen Exit 6