My idea of a pizza party with my coworkers is a little different than what happened last night at the apartment building of Patrícia's coworker.
Were we crowded in a little apartment with plates perched in our laps and no place to set our wine glasses? No. Were we helping ourselves to mediocre pies out of cardboard boxes? No.
We were seated under the stars next to the rooftop terrace pool. The tables were elegantly set and had custom printed menus for the event. We were to get two foccacia appetizers, six kinds of pizza, and two dessert pizzas. The pizza company set up their own high temperature gas fired pizza oven in the terrace kitchen and provided staff that circled the tables offering up slices of delicious ultra thin crust pizzas. Olive oil, wine and conversation flowed freely, and of course, I had my share of all three. At the end, as I finished my banana pizza topped with ice cream and drizzled with copious amounts of chocolate, I still wanted more, but I was already past the too much food point. And it wasn't until this morning that I realized that I went beyond the too much wine point too. Oh well, you only live once so make it count. Life is good if you do it right.
