For anyone who recalls my post of a year ago (http://www.chowhound.com/topics/343280) - almost to the day - I must have finally done something to repair my pizza karma.
Tonight, I came home hungry and feeling like a quick pizza fix. But, with my horrific track record, I was skeptical that I could find what I needed without another trip into delivery hell. I leaned towards the "orange box" option because at least it is fast and reliable, even if unmemorable. Then I remembered all those CH raves about Bona. I hesitated. Was I in the delivery zone? Would it live up to the reviews? Would they get lost on route, show up after a couple of hours, or worse, lose my order altogether? Would it show up cold, flattened, stuck to the roof of the box, or missing a major ingredient? Would the call centre treat me like crap and keep my money? What pizza delivery evil would visit my life this time?
The visions were horrifying...but so were the growls from my stomach. Was I ready for another ravenous disappointment? Could I handle it? Could I afford the therapy if it failed?
First, I checked the web site . It wasn't flashy, but it was functional. I perused the menu. I went back to Chowhound and reread the reviews. I looked at the map and tried to estimate the distance between Bona and me- the traffic - all the things that could go wrong. I started to feel like just maybe I could do this.
I inventoried my woefully empty fridge one more time. Finally, I gathered my strength and dialled Bona.
The man answered. The man spoke perfect English. The man recognized my address. The man had delivered to this building before. Things are looking up. I ordered the bruschetta pizza. I hesitated over the thin crust, but thinking it wouldn't do as well on the bottom of a trunk for 2 or more hours, I went with the medium. The man promised me 45 minutes "or less." I politely thanked the man and hung up--doubtful but somewhat buoyed. Assuming the worse, I grabbed a piece of cheese, poured a glass of wine, and and prepared myself for another long nightmare.
Less than 30 minutes later, my phone rang. NO-it couldn't be! I stared at it in disbelief before answering. OMG! It was my pizza. It was in my elevator. I stuck my head out the door. It was heading down my hall. I thought maybe it was an apparition. He waved. My delivery man, MY PIZZA, at my home in under 2 hours - no strike that - in under 30 minutes!
The exchange of money was a blur. Soon I was at my table, with my warm pizza. I slowly lifted the lid. It was exactly what I ordered. It wasn't mangled. It smelled good. It was hot. At this point, I could have died happy. But I carried on. I released a piece from its cheesy, warm bed and carried it gently to the couch. The first bite was more than promising. The crust, even medium, was delicate -- crispy and light....the toppings were fresh, lovely, and perfectly distributed.
I inhaled.....it. And then I inhaled another. I was satiated at last. I lingered over a third piece and took time to reflect on the warm beauty in my hands--which I would have clasped towards the heavens if not ...you know... for the pizza.
Finally, after so long, I was in pizza-delivery heaven. I've earned my wings thanks to Bona.
Next on my list - Chinese.
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