I remember when I was a seventh-grader at La Salle Greenhills. It was Schoolyear 1983-1984, Fridays were half-days then, and when school ended for the week, my classmates and I would usually troop to the Greenhills Commercial Center to hang out.
Our first stop would always be for lunch, at a quaint but cozy, little-known pizza restaurant. Its pizza and lasagna was quite popular among Greenhills habitués, but otherwise unknown to people who did not frequent the area. It was almost always full of La Sallistas, and if memory serves me correctly, was called Greenwich Pizza and Pasta.
Fast forward to the year 2007, I’m now a feature writer for Sun.Star Cebu, and I suddenly find myself somehow reliving the experiences from twenty-three years before. I’m at a Greenwich restaurant, albeit in Cebu City, and I’m with some members of the media, to take part in a shortened version of their popular “Pizza-Making Camp”.
I’m an amateur cook, and I have made my own pizzas in the past, but my process involves nothing more than just putting the ingredients on top of the pie then baking it, with no system whatsoever. It’s a totally different thing at Greenwich. To paraphrase Michelle Flaherty, the band geek in American Pie, “At pizza camp, we were taught to make pizza the Greenwich way.”
First off, it was stressed that cleanliness was very important, hence the presence of the “double hand-wash” dictum. Crewmembers were required to wash their hands twice, ever so often, as they would be preparing food for other people to eat. As “trainees”, we were also expected to follow this guideline, as Greenwich officials were observing our “training period”, and we were not supposed to be given any special treatment.
As soon as we were taught how to construct a pizza, from the basic single cheese pizza to the more complicated Greenwich Special, we were set loose in their kitchen. First to go on was the secret pizza sauce, then the special cheese. The meat bits went on next, followed by small pieces of pineapple. Pepperoni slices are then placed on top in a sort of ‘x’ pattern, with bacon and mushroom slices last.
Once constructed, we placed our pizzas in a conveyor belt, where it enters an oven. Around three minutes later, almost like magic, our cooked pizzas emerge on the other side, as professionally done as can be.
According to Boggs Racaza, Area Manager for Operations, the Greenwich Pizza-Making Camp is a year-round activity held by the company, not only for children but for anyone who’s never made a pizza on their own and is interested in making one. She relates, “We even have HRM students coming in to register, for some actual experience in a professional environment.”
Though the small and cozy Greenwich I knew no longer exists, replaced by spacious, brightly-lit, well-equipped restaurants with full crews in every part of the Philippines, the smells are still there, whatever branch you may be at; more importantly, the tastes that many La Sallistas grew to love are preserved, if not made even more delicious. And when I took that bite of Greenwich pizza that I made with my own hands, all the memories of playing hooky, and chasing after Assumptionistas, came rushing back. And that famous pizza in Greenhills? It was as if we never said goodbye.
Our first stop would always be for lunch, at a quaint but cozy, little-known pizza restaurant. Its pizza and lasagna was quite popular among Greenhills habitués, but otherwise unknown to people who did not frequent the area. It was almost always full of La Sallistas, and if memory serves me correctly, was called Greenwich Pizza and Pasta.
Fast forward to the year 2007, I’m now a feature writer for Sun.Star Cebu, and I suddenly find myself somehow reliving the experiences from twenty-three years before. I’m at a Greenwich restaurant, albeit in Cebu City, and I’m with some members of the media, to take part in a shortened version of their popular “Pizza-Making Camp”.
I’m an amateur cook, and I have made my own pizzas in the past, but my process involves nothing more than just putting the ingredients on top of the pie then baking it, with no system whatsoever. It’s a totally different thing at Greenwich. To paraphrase Michelle Flaherty, the band geek in American Pie, “At pizza camp, we were taught to make pizza the Greenwich way.”
First off, it was stressed that cleanliness was very important, hence the presence of the “double hand-wash” dictum. Crewmembers were required to wash their hands twice, ever so often, as they would be preparing food for other people to eat. As “trainees”, we were also expected to follow this guideline, as Greenwich officials were observing our “training period”, and we were not supposed to be given any special treatment.
As soon as we were taught how to construct a pizza, from the basic single cheese pizza to the more complicated Greenwich Special, we were set loose in their kitchen. First to go on was the secret pizza sauce, then the special cheese. The meat bits went on next, followed by small pieces of pineapple. Pepperoni slices are then placed on top in a sort of ‘x’ pattern, with bacon and mushroom slices last.
Once constructed, we placed our pizzas in a conveyor belt, where it enters an oven. Around three minutes later, almost like magic, our cooked pizzas emerge on the other side, as professionally done as can be.
According to Boggs Racaza, Area Manager for Operations, the Greenwich Pizza-Making Camp is a year-round activity held by the company, not only for children but for anyone who’s never made a pizza on their own and is interested in making one. She relates, “We even have HRM students coming in to register, for some actual experience in a professional environment.”
Though the small and cozy Greenwich I knew no longer exists, replaced by spacious, brightly-lit, well-equipped restaurants with full crews in every part of the Philippines, the smells are still there, whatever branch you may be at; more importantly, the tastes that many La Sallistas grew to love are preserved, if not made even more delicious. And when I took that bite of Greenwich pizza that I made with my own hands, all the memories of playing hooky, and chasing after Assumptionistas, came rushing back. And that famous pizza in Greenhills? It was as if we never said goodbye.
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