“And it is,” Uncle Paulie said as he led the way inside. He and Carrie sat in a booth next to a wall on which a mural of the Bay of Naples had been painted. The mural on the opposite side was of the Amalfi coast. Uncle Paulie ordered a large plain pizza without consulting Carrie. “You'll love it,” he promised. “Maurizio's family had one of the first pizza places in New Haven. Back then we used to call it ‘apizza pie,’ which wasn't correct Italian, because that's what pizza means—pie. Maurizio makes the crust just like his grandparents used to … but he's changed with the times. Back then, they used to put just sauce, grated cheese, olive oil, and a little dried oregano on the dough. No mozzarella, no meat, nothing like that. When I was growing up you'd hear the old people complaining.” Uncle Paulie slouched in his seat and hunched up his shoulders. “ ‘Eh, why do they put mozarell’ onna tomato pie?’ ” he said in a heavy accent. “ ‘We didn't make it like that back on Franklin Street!’ ” He laughed at his own joke. Then he shrugged. “Personally, I like pizza with mozzarella on it. Lu and me, we always were for anything new.”

“Speaking of Lu, you were going to tell me—”

“How I let her down—I know.” He took a moment to sigh deeply. Then he plunged in. “It was when she was sixteen—in 1943. A lot had changed by then. For one thing, Pop had died in 1940. He had a heart attack. He'd never been sick a day in his life, but all of a sudden he was gone and Mama was the head of the house. You can't imagine what a big thing that was for our family, because Pop had handled everything. And then there was the war—World War Two. That changed the whole darned universe. ”

Chapter 9 - New Haven 1943