Hurrying to the Roma Termini Station to catch the train to Florence , but wanting a slice of Roman pizza before we take off, a take out is in order. The old lady behind the counter takes the slice and placed it in the oven for reheating.
Checking out my phone clock, anxiously but patiently waiting for it, I can't help but notice how slow she moves and gaily chat with the customers as she does it.
Clearly, I'm in a hurry, but she's not.
The pizza takes its time in the oven. I could have said she does not need to warm it, but bread is better when warm. That pizza time, takes you on a different journey to appreciate what the locals do and what they make time for.
After all, pizza is bread that is time trapped in flour and cheese, so you just need to calm down and relax with the gluten.
