Melancholic

Melancholic

Sammy Balistreri sends word that on December 15 Costa d' Oro will celebrate its fortieth anniversary. I have no idea what I did on that day forty years ago as my diary only begins in August 1975. Reading perhaps. I was in my second year at the Dordrecht teacher training college. I was still decently living at home with my parents. A weekend trip to Paris with friends was about the biggest adventure we could think of. It was after such an adventure, in the spring of 1973, that we got to know the Italian. That was what we named Costa d' Oro and although later on some more Italian restaurants opened in Dordrecht, we still call it the Italian. I remember us being surprised and delighted by the pizza. They weren't a cartwheel's size, like in most other Italian restaurants, but they were well filled and done according to a unique recipe which is still a well preserved family secret of the Balisteri's.

Once my wife Stella and I decided on a top-ten of the best pizza. We never got beyond number three. Those of Costa d' Oro are well on top, followed at some distance by those of Pizza Roma in Perevou Street, Salonica. Number three are the pizza of a restaurant in Pefkohori in Greece of which I can't remember the name. Now and again, when Stella was still alive, we used to travel down to Greece from Holland by car through Italy. Italy is a place for excellent food, except for pizza. True enough it's a matter of taste, but whenever I tried a pizza in Italy, whether in Lodi, Ancona, Verona, Trento or Garda, and even once in Firenze, I always thought 'if this was Voorstraat 444 in Dordrecht it would taste much, much better.' Stella always agreed, even if she was much more scrupulous than I.

After that first visit we kept returning until this very day. My friends Peter, Lupius, Herbert, Thijs and myself had more than one reason for eating out at the Italian in the early days. We were all more or less secretly in love with Rosa, the eldest daughter. Her dad wasn't to know and I wonder whether she herself ever got to find out. Mister Balistreri was an excellent cook but he could be rather strict. If you grew somewhat noisy after drinking a little too much Sicilian wine he'd come up to you with a biting remark that awed you into silence. Of course Costa d' Oro was the first restaurant in Dordrecht where I took Stella when she came over from Greece to meet my parents.

Stella, Mr. Balistreri, Peter and Lupius have all died by now and all of them much too young. Sometimes when eating at the Italian I feel a little melancholic. Those golden years when we were all out there enjoying ourselves will never return. Happily Costa d' Oro has always remained warm and welcoming. Its pizza remain in full force at the head of our list.

©C.A. Klok