Essay by Carolyn Busa
Data by Benjamin Garvey
Pizza by South Jersey
Disclaimer: This is an essay about pizza baked into an essay actually about love. That’s my way of saying the word ‘pizza’ will not appear until paragraph 13. If you’d like to skip ahead, by all means, but really, what is pizza without love?
My boyfriend will do anything to keep me living in New Jersey. He has to. He did everything to get me to move here.
Let me back up.
New Jersey isn’t a foreign land to me. It’s where I was raised. Collingswood, NJ “It’s Where You Want to Be.”...Until you decide to move to Brooklyn.
Before I moved there at the end of 2013, I never saw myself living in Brooklyn. New York was a beast and I didn’t think I could do it. But somehow I got there. And I loved it.
Despite the love, I couldn’t see myself living there forever and I often wondered what would be the reason I left. A job opportunity? Maybe. But my star wasn’t rising fast enough in the comedy scene for that to seem possible. A guy? Doubt it. Definitely wouldn’t be that either.
One thing I couldn’t predict that did take me out of Brooklyn was COVID. I temporarily escaped when it hit. A weekend trip back to Collingswood turned into a 6 month trip. And through a series of lonely Instagram messages with an old friend named Benjamin, a single Carolyn turned into a falling in love Carolyn. Those details are for another story, but, pandemics, am I right?
I had a lot to consider when I finally returned to my Brooklyn apartment in August 2020. I knew this person I was falling for was special. I also knew what Benjamin and I wanted out of a relationship wouldn’t be as fulfilling long-distance.
My lease was up in March so I started planning a new life in my old stomping grounds. I conquered, rather, survived the beast of Brooklyn. What else could I do?
A lot had to happen but at the end of March 2021, a year after I temporarily left Brooklyn, I left Brooklyn a bit more permanently. I moved into my own place in Collingswood, opened a store (I repeat, pandemics, am I right?), and got to do a lot more than just fall in love. Getting to be in love and fully around Benjamin with all his smells and kisses and touches and screenless eye contact that he comes with was and still is amazing. I love him so much.
However, moving is emotional. And moving from a city of anonymity to a quiet street in the suburbs (where the threat of a local Facebook group looms over your every move) is an emotional rollercoaster.
What I’m saying is, leaving Brooklyn was hard.
As I mourned my former Brooklyn life, I was doing my best to slowly resurrect parts of my former Jersey life. I also needed to build a business from scratch. It was a confusing clash of nostalgia and unknown future that made for some messy nights. My emotional rollercoaster kept Benjamin busy. He was going above and beyond to make my transition back to the 856 (or 609 if you’re anybody who’s anybody) area code tolerable.
One of his tricks was pizza.
If I was having a particularly down day, the text “Let’s get a pizza.” would instantly bump me up a few notches. As we looked up a place to grab a pie, I realized that we were surrounded by the same, if not more, amount of pizza places as I was back in my Brooklyn neighborhood. Being surrounded by pizza comes with the territory in New York. I wasn’t expecting the same some 80 miles away.
Some of the pizza places in our search I had been driving by my whole life without ever once stepping inside. “What if the best pizza is in one of these places?” I asked Benjamin.
I can’t remember who came up with the actual plan. It’s hard to tell with us. Yes, we have the ability to finish each other’s sentences but it’s more than that. It’s like our brains are always having a conversation. A wavelength keeping us connected and we just go along with the ride.
And this time the ride (and plan) was pizza.
We would eat (and rate) as many pizzas in South Jersey we could until the end of year. We created a spreadsheet and came up with some super serious criteria to base our ratings on:
First bite satisfaction How satisfying is the first bite?
Oil puddle goodness I like a lot. Benjamin likes a bit less than that.
Crust Benjamin appreciates the art of the crust. I see it as more of a pizza handle.
Number of slices eaten The most unscientific of the metrics.
Cheeeeeeeeeese Yes spelled like that. Don’t skimp.
We made an executive decision to only rate basic, cheese pies. No fancy Grandmas. No margheritas. Sorry Bricco and Pizza Crime. Large, cheese pizzas only.
We added notes for each one. Some of which were informative: Lots of love goes into this pizza. Garlic. Basil. Great pizza.*
Some of which were circumstantial: Watched the Many Saints of Newark while we ate it, so maybe that helped.**
And some of which were damning: Tasted like really good bowling alley pizza.***
Pizza became an official part of our routine. We fantasized about publishing our results and becoming the go to pizza experts of South Jersey. We’d get free slices. We’d be invited to restaurant openings. A picture of us would replace whatever faded newspaper clipping every pizza place has hanging on their wall: “Couple in Love Wants a Coupla Slices”
Clearly we set our goals high but that’s what we were used to doing. Before our ‘Pizza Joints’ spreadsheet was our ‘Life Plan’ spreadsheet, a spreadsheet we created when I returned to Brooklyn. This spreadsheet laid out our path to being able to be together. Conversations we needed to have, boxes we needed to check, vaccines we needed to get. We followed it. We were successful. We were obsessed. Obsessed with pizza, obsessed with spreadsheets, obsessed with each other. Our ‘Pizza Joint’ spreadsheet confirmed what the ‘Life Plan’ spreadsheet already knew: Some of the best laid plans, pizza, and people were in our own backyard.
That being said, our love may be gooey and cheesy but we do take our pizza ratings very seriously. And so should you. Check them out and be sure to invite us to your next pizza party.
*Villa Barone, December 27th, 2021, Benjamin Garvey
**Pepperoni Pizza, October 3rd, 2021, Benjamin Garvey
***Bistro Pizzeria, May 26th, 2021, Carolyn Busa
