Life seemed much simpler in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn in 1965.
Take Valentines Day for instance. These days it seems like every other guy you come across is spending a fortune to buy his best girl diamonds, pearls or some other extravagant expression of --- what? 'I used to have alot of money'? Don't get me wrong, I think there's a place for bling - as long as there's thought behind it.
There was an Italian restaurant/pizza place called Frank's on 4th Avenue between 58th and 59th streets in Bay Ridge. It was an Italian family-owned and run place that had the round tables in the middle of the floor and a few booths along the wall. All the tables had red and white checkered table cloths. There were glass jars of oil, parmesan cheese and dried peppers and dishes of olives sitting in the center of each table. The mouth watering smells of tomato sauce, cheese and roasted garlic permeated the air. Frank's was very much like Louie's, the Italian restaurant in The Godfather, where we heard the following exchange:
Capt. McCluskey: How's the Italian food in this restaurant?
Sollozzo: Good. Try the veal, it's the best in the city.
Sollozzo: Good. Try the veal, it's the best in the city.
Once in a blue moon, my family would walk up to 4th Avenue to treat ourselves to a Saturday night out at Frank's. Spaghetti and meatballs - $.85. Sometimes my dad would "go pick us up a pie" and we'd eat at home while watching Get Smart on TV. It's a given that Brooklyn pizza is the best and, in my family's opinion, Frank's rated up there as some of the best pizza in Brooklyn.
In 1965, Valentine's Day happened to fall on a Saturday. Out of the blue, my dad suggested that he go pick us up a pie at Frank's. While he was gone, the rest of us set up the tables, chairs and plates, the whole time anticipating sinking our teeth into a couple of slices of Frank's finest.
In 1965, Valentine's Day happened to fall on a Saturday. Out of the blue, my dad suggested that he go pick us up a pie at Frank's. While he was gone, the rest of us set up the tables, chairs and plates, the whole time anticipating sinking our teeth into a couple of slices of Frank's finest.
After a while, mom became concerned that dad was taking so long. It usually only took him 20 or 25 minutes to pop up to 4th Avenue pick up the pie and return home. It had been over an hour since he left to go up to Frank's. We lived in a rough neighborhood, but my brother and I were confident that dad - being a body builder and longshoreman - could handle himself. Still...
Just as we were about to call the police, we heard dad coming up the stairs of our apartment building. Phew! The door opened and there stood dad with a pizza box in his hands and a mischievous grin on his face. "What?" mom asked. "You'll see", dad replied. We all moved into the living room.
Dad made a big production of placing the pizza box on the living room coffee table. Then slowly and deliberately, and with as much flourish as possible, he opened the box. "TA DA!" he said, gesturing towards the box with outstretched hands. We all leaned forward to see what was up.
Inside was a heart shaped pizza. "Happy Valentine's Day", dad told mom, then gave her a big kiss. Mom exclaimed, "Ohhhhhhh!" in the way some women do, and kissed him back. "That's so clever. I've never seen one of these before. How did you get him to make it in the shape of a heart? But what took you so long, hon?"
Dad then explained that he'd been thinking about giving mom a heart-shaped pizza for Valentine's Day for some time but when he tried describing what he wanted to the pizza guy at Frank's (was it Frank? we'll never know) he couldn't. The barrier, of course, was the fact that dad didn't speak any Italian and the pizza guy could speak only enough English to take the typical customer's order. "Two slice. One Coke." But dad found a solution.
Joe Coco owned a little Italian grocery store on the street level of the apartment building dad's mom (my grandmother) lived in. It was only a couple of blocks away from Frank's. Dad ran over to Joe Coco's store and caught him just as he was closing shop for the night. Joe was a quiet, nice, gracious, generous and helpful Italian gentleman who also happened to have a crush on dad's aunt Flory - my grandmother's sister. I don't know which one of those traits was responsible for him helping out, but when dad asked Joe if he would do him a favor, Joe didn't hesitate.
Joe and dad went back to Frank's, dad told Joe what he wanted and Joe translated to the pizza guy.
And mom got a heart-shaped pizza for Valentines Day.
And a couple of years later Joe Coco became Uncle Joe when he married Aunt Flory.
Just as we were about to call the police, we heard dad coming up the stairs of our apartment building. Phew! The door opened and there stood dad with a pizza box in his hands and a mischievous grin on his face. "What?" mom asked. "You'll see", dad replied. We all moved into the living room.
Dad made a big production of placing the pizza box on the living room coffee table. Then slowly and deliberately, and with as much flourish as possible, he opened the box. "TA DA!" he said, gesturing towards the box with outstretched hands. We all leaned forward to see what was up.
Inside was a heart shaped pizza. "Happy Valentine's Day", dad told mom, then gave her a big kiss. Mom exclaimed, "Ohhhhhhh!" in the way some women do, and kissed him back. "That's so clever. I've never seen one of these before. How did you get him to make it in the shape of a heart? But what took you so long, hon?"
Dad then explained that he'd been thinking about giving mom a heart-shaped pizza for Valentine's Day for some time but when he tried describing what he wanted to the pizza guy at Frank's (was it Frank? we'll never know) he couldn't. The barrier, of course, was the fact that dad didn't speak any Italian and the pizza guy could speak only enough English to take the typical customer's order. "Two slice. One Coke." But dad found a solution.
Joe Coco owned a little Italian grocery store on the street level of the apartment building dad's mom (my grandmother) lived in. It was only a couple of blocks away from Frank's. Dad ran over to Joe Coco's store and caught him just as he was closing shop for the night. Joe was a quiet, nice, gracious, generous and helpful Italian gentleman who also happened to have a crush on dad's aunt Flory - my grandmother's sister. I don't know which one of those traits was responsible for him helping out, but when dad asked Joe if he would do him a favor, Joe didn't hesitate.
Joe and dad went back to Frank's, dad told Joe what he wanted and Joe translated to the pizza guy.
And mom got a heart-shaped pizza for Valentines Day.
And a couple of years later Joe Coco became Uncle Joe when he married Aunt Flory.
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