However, even if by some grace of God I would be able to find a pizza made with whole wheat flour, homemade fresh tomato sauce, moderate cheese levels and amazingly fresh vegetables I was still never in the mood for pizza, until I lived in New York City.

Pizza has never been my thing. Call me crazy (and most people do), but I just could never hop onto the pizza bandwagon. When I was in high school I developed a phobia of the family pleasing dinner time, or really anytime, meal.

I went on a health craze and thought that nothing good can come of this 360 degree cheese-infested meal. It wasnt until I really started to read up on healthy eating that I realized pizza, if made with the right ingredients and consumed in moderate portions, is not a bad option.

However, even if by some grace of God I would be able to find a pizza made with whole wheat flour, homemade fresh tomato sauce, moderate cheese levels and amazingly fresh vegetables, I was still never in the mood for pizza, until I lived in New York City.

During my time there, I was tricked into eating pizza.

One evening I was invited to dinner with a large Italian family that lived on Long Island. Family dinners to them are what large in-home parties are to us Midwesterners. The supply of baked ziti, homemade bruschetta, eggplant parmesan and chicken cutlets seemed to never run out despite the large number of people that were gathered in this house.

Before we sat down to dinner, I was asked if I wanted a piece of pie. It was fresh out of the oven and I was promised that it wouldnt ruin my dinner. Before I could ask what kind of pie (like it really even mattered) I was holding a paper plate with a triangle of pizza on it.

What?

In my head I was thinking, Where is my pie? I love pie and I was really looking forward to a piece of fruit pie.

Well, in New York you dont eat pizza, you eat pie. A piece of pie is one slice of pizza and a pizza pie is the entire thing. Now you know what I wish I wouldve known before taking my first few steps off of the airplane and into JFK airport.

So I ate the pizza. And it was pretty good. The cheese did not come out of a bag that had come pre-grated. It was fresh mozzarella that was sliced and kept in its original oval like form as it lay on top of the hand tossed thin crust. The tomatoes in the sauce were purchased at a local farmers market earlier that day.

This was also my first time eating artichoke hearts which rested on the top of my fresh mozzarella cheese. Fresh basil from the pot sitting on the front porch was crumbled on the top and it really looked like a masterpiece.

I had a few more pieces of pie and decided to skip the baked ziti. I could not get enough of these wonderfully fresh flavors.

For the rest of my stay in New York, I became I pizzaholic. Granted, I never could find one in the city that was as fresh and as beautiful as the one I had eaten on Long Island.

Buying a piece of pizza from the vendors on the street became a ritual.

In Chicago, its the hot dog and in New York, its a thin piece of pie. I went to a vegan restaurant once in the West Village and waited almost two hours for a pie, but the bubbly whole wheat crust and halved tomatoes on top of it made up for the long wait.

The trendy restaurants in Midtown always tried to make their pizza making style more glamorous and appealing to the New York City waif. They never did compare to the vegan pizza I ate and none of them compared to the artichoke heart and basil pizza I shared with a boisterous bunch of Italians on Long Island.

When I finally came home to Milwaukee, I was a pizza eater. My friends and family were shocked and in awe that I could down almost a whole pie myself, but I wont get into that story.

I acquainted myself with Milwaukee pizza joints and found a few favorites that must be tried by even the faintest of pizza (pie) lovers.

In order of greatness according to New York City standards:

1. Zaffiros

2. 1724 North Farewell Avenue

3. Oakland Tratoria

4. 2856 North Oakland Avenue

5. Pizza Man

6. 1800 East North Avenue

7. Pizza Shuttle

   1827 N. Farwell Avenue

8. Zanyas Pizza

   714 E. Brady Street

While the pizza I find in Milwaukee will never be as good as that first pie I had on Long Island, it is perfectly OK by me. After all, there is always something special about your first time.

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