Panorama of San Bernardino

Monday, July 11, 2022

Pizza time

I've written a story or two or three about food and restaurants. I've also written quite a lot about pizza and chicken. In my full length memoir, I have a story about a night at Pizza Hut with my dad. And in another foodie piece, I talk about my dad's love of Pioneer Chicken. The orange crispness that burst in your mouth like fireworks. Their mash with the golden gravy. Their little dessert trifles.

But have I ever written about Shakey's Pizza? Last night, my husband ordered it to be delivered. He got a large pizza, mojo potatoes and eight pieces of fried chicken. I bit into the chicken and it felt like home.

Back in the day, Shakey's Pizza was like church for the Mantz family, My dad would take us to the one in Montclair on Holt Street. They had a mini arcade and my sisters and I would beg my mom and dad for quarters. We would play Pac Man and probably Dig Dug or Burger Time. We would each get the buffet. And a pitcher of A & W Root Beer which we had to sip slowly because there were no refills. The other strategy was to down your first one and beat everyone to go for a second cup.  

My ritual was to first make a salad covered in ranch, cheese, black olives and croutons. Next, I would eat my fill of the crispy chicken and the salty mojo potatoes (dipped in ranch of course). At the end, I would sample each kind of pizza they had out. 

Dad could eat a lot and my mom would chastise him, "John, slow down. Remember your blood pressure." Dad would shake his head at her. He wasn't going to let an "all you can eat" buffet be anything but just that. 

Dad always wanted to take chicken home. It wasn't allowed. But that didn't stop him. Dad would hand my mom a few pieces of chicken under the table wrapped in an oil stained napkin and whisper to my mom, "C'mon Judy, put it in your purse." Mom soon learned to bring a big purse with her and dad would fill it up. At home, Dad would wait an hour or two, then open the fridge to eat his pilfered chicken. I would sometimes ask him for a piece of crispy skin and he would always oblige.

Those memories linger for me. They're unforgettable. Good food, family, arcade games and hiding a piece of chicken in a purse. What could be better than that my friends?

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