Gwennie and I had lunch today at a newish Italian restaurant, Naples 15, which is located in the building that houses Capital Fitness and Elevation Spa. It is in the same place that has housed numerous restaurants and coffee shops over the years: Espresso Royale, Caffe Porta Alba, Old Market Bistro, and Las Cazuelas, to name a few. I was intrigued by the place because it promised truly Neapolitan pizza and who can resist that? Plus, Gwennie and I had been scheduling and rescheduling a lunch date for weeks now and we settled upon today. The hitch, though, was that I had a haircut appointment at Elevation at 12. So, I suggested we check out Naples 15 at 11 so we could lunch and then I could pop upstairs for a haircut. Gwennie, who is usually up for exciting adventures like these (yes, I count trying a new restaurant as an adventure), willingly agreed.
The decor was mostly fine, but I found the large cards with jesters on them affixed with tape to the otherwise pretty wood floor a little odd and Gwennie objected to the stemless daisies floating in water in martini glasses on our table. We were early, it being only shortly after 11 am, and were seated by the nice Italian man whom I presume is the owner. He told us our waitress would in shortly and she was. And this was when the adventure really got going. I ordered one of the two margherita pizzas (the difference being in the type of mozzarella, I think) and said, innocently, “Could I get garlic on that, please?” The waitress said, “Garlic?” “Yes, please.” The waitress said, very seriously, “I’ll see if we have any.”
I’ll see if we have any. Garlic. At a restaurant. At an Italian restaurant. At a Neapolitan Italian restaurant.
Well, it turns out I was in luck. They had garlic! And they also served one of the best Italian pizzas I’ve had since returning from Italy. Total, complete yumsville. Gwennie said her pizza was delish, too. She had some number with sausage, mozzarella and friarielli. Gwen is such a bold adventurer she ordered the pizza before the Google search told us friarielli is the Neapolitan term for broccoli rabe. I would never have been able to pull of that feat.
While we were enjoying the tasty fare, Gwen decided she wanted a club soda. She asked the waitress for one. The waitress looked a little puzzled, left and returned saying, “We don’t have club soda.” I looked up at the full bar and scratched my head. Oh well, at least they had garlic.