Busted! You got me!

We drove up to get a take-out pizza, and parked in the handicapped space by the door, just waiting for us. I have the placard, because I’m still learning to walk after the operation.

We went in to order, checking the menu because there are so many choices, and we thought we’d try something new.

The girl at the register looked at me and said, “Didn’t you give me a card last time and said you’d write about us in your blog?”

I said, “Yes, I did.”

She said, “I don’t see us there yet.”

So yes, busted, you got me.

I said, “I will correct that omission, tonight.”

And we looked at the menu to decide. Chaz wanted to try the barbeque chicken pizza because he likes everything chicken. We also added a kale/sausage pizza because we had it before and found it to be such a wonderful revelation that we just had to repeat that experience. It’s like a National Treasure.

Prime Pizza is located on the northeast corner of one of the power intersections in Altadena, where Allen Ave. parallels Lake Ave. to the west, and further west, Fair Oaks, and even further, Lincoln. There are a series of wonderful north/south streets that carry the go-to places and bring Pasadena and the wider valley up to the miracle of Altadena at the foot of the mountains. We love it, and have lived here for 54 years.

The corner location used to be Patty Cakes, a bakery with pastries fresh every morning, and we went there so often it was like our extended family. We especially loved the turnovers, apple, cherry, almond, and brought them to parties and meetings, to universal acclaim.

Nothing lasts forever, families get older, children sometimes run the business a little longer, then comes the day when the property sells, and the turnover is now new ownership. We in the neighborhood were apprehensive.

Prime Pizza came in with banners flying, trumpets, media alerts. They were the extension of the parent location, seeking to find a setting for what would be a chain of restaurants. They looked at Altadena and knew right away.

We had driven by several times when we were down from the Bay Area where I’m now mostly living, but we come down to work on the house and renew connections.
We saw what they’ve done with the place. We liked the look of the outdoor open cover patio, tables and benches, lights and standing heaters, like a beer garden or a picnic location for family and friends, right at the end of the neighborhood. Everyone looked happy and we decided we should give it a try.

We drove up, parking almost full but room for us. To the right of the door was a standing automat from the Altadena Library where you could check out a book by machine and take it to the table while you waited for your pizza. I’d never seen that before, maybe because I don’t get out enough, but I thought it was a good idea, to combine two of my passions at once, reading and food. And the crowd at the tables in the open patio were so happy eating and conversing, that we were in a good mood as we entered, primed for the pizza.

Everything was the way it should be, what you could only hope for but seldom achieve. The high posted menu, the pictures of pizzas cunningly photographed to make you want every one, menus on the counter for closer inspection, a display case with representative pizzas round and square, slices already cut because, as the sign says, available by the slice. The typical pass through window where you could see into the kitchen and the inner workings of pizza creation, and the active ovens ready for your order.

The first time was like love. You have to go back for more. And we did, and did. And when you come back, you see on the bill they’ve given you a rebate, good business practice, yes, but the attention to detail they take in everything to let you know they care.

We went to sit in the patio while we waited for our order. Kristina brought me a cup of water from the station at the side. Free water. Some other places also offer that, but not all, though everyone should.

I sat near one of the heaters that was on, so I wouldn’t get cold, and didn’t. At the next table a young father was eating with his two young daughters, the nearest to me in a high chair. She turned around and looked at me and I waved and smiled and mimed an air bite to join in the spirit. She turned to her dad and said something like, “He bit at me,” or “He ate at my food.” I turned away quickly, just in case. Later, I looked over and he smiled and nodded.

Everyone was happy, like one big happy family, neighborhood community democracy, the way the world should be. Right here in Altadena, with wonderful food, and people who remember me. I’m remembered all over town, and Kristina says, “Dad, you know everybody.” I modestly say, “It just seems that way.”

Altadena is still home to me, I like putting it in my blog, and now it’s late at night, I’m getting tired, but mentioning Prime Pizza, I have one less promise to keep before I sleep.