I see Marlon Brando’s character from A Streetcar Named Desire standing in the rain shouting “Stella” every time I read the name. I imagine any woman named Stella must get this often, just as I had the Journey song “Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl” sung to me a thousand times over the years. Yet somehow, I refrained from repeating the scene from the Tennessee Williams’ play outside of Pizzeria Stella in Philadelphia.
(Side note: I struggle every time I spell the word “Pizzeria”. Every. Time.)
At 2pm on a Sunday afternoon, the little restaurant was quiet, though pizzas were constantly being made. I have a thing for Italian food, so I really couldn’t imagine a better way to spend lunch than at an Italian restaurant with my good friend Carly who, coincidentally, speaks Italian (though she herself is not). We ate risotto balls, lingered over a lovely zucchini pizza, then indulged with homemade gelato.
And the culinary masterminds behind Pizzeria Stella know their gelatos as well as their pizzas. Olive oil gelato and honey mascarpone gelato topped with cookies ended the whole experience on a high note. And I drove back to DC in a blissful stupor.
What pizza and gelato combination would make your day?