After the 1989 Revolution, Corso was the first place in my little hometown to make pizza.

Corso was a confectionery built to the highest standards of ‘luxury’ by the Communists: the legend had it that during one of his tours of the country, Ceausescu dropped in to have some cake!

After ’89, Corso had to adapt to the fast-changing economics of the ‘transition’ period, and amongst other clever manoeuvres, it started making pizza.

Don’t let your imagination wander too far astray, thinking that the place got filled with people. On the contrary! On Sunday afternoons at least, it was always empty.

The ladies @ Corso were intrigued by my culinary preference, so much so that the master confectioner herself once emerged from the kitchen: ‘Are you the boy who always asks us to make pizza for him? You like pizza, do you?’ And she maternally stroked my head.

I think the ladies were pretty much improvising: quite a thick base (although always very tender), lots of tomato puree diluted with water to make it runnier, some frigid mushrooms and a little bit of cheese that would never properly melt, for some reason. And it always took ages and ages to make.

Almost every Sunday afternoon, there I was in the Corso…

In the lavish interior with stucco ornaments on the ceilings and around the big mirrors on the walls, with the Louis xiv style tables and chairs…