Harry Finds the Perfect Slice

If you could see my face now, you’d see the biggest smile. What caused it? No big surprise there—it was pizza.

But it wasn’t just any pizza, it was the best pizza I’ve ever eaten. Even though I’m usually in the mood for pancakes, every now and again I like to get a little taste of Italy. And boy oh boy, did I find exactly what I was looking for!

I was walking around St. Charles Ave. and I smelled something marvelous. I looked up and I saw Slice Pizzeria. I just had to go in and order whatever that wonderful smell was coming out of the oven.

The waiter brought back a prosciutto di Parma pizza and it was so good I ate the whole pie right there. It was even better than my old favorite pizza, Garibaldi’s barbecue pizza in Memphis.

It turns out prosciutto means thinly sliced ham. And Parma is a city in Italy famous for making prosciutto. Maybe I need to go to Parma and see if the pizza is even better there.

Or I’ll just head back over to Slice Pizzeria tomorrow.