Thank you for taking us along to experience New York-style pizza in Tokyo, and for the well-edited contrast and sharing of memories across time. It was a very nice experience. Thanks again. 🍕☀️😀🇯🇵
No sooner had the warm cheese mixed with the sauce touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory - this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little slice of pizza which on Sunday mornings at A Nostra when I went to grab a bite. The sight of the little pizza had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my slice of pie.
great video. loved the back n forth with NYC and Tokyo. and that Tokyo pizza looks pretty good. will need to make a pilgrimage in the new year
Thank you for taking us along to experience New York-style pizza in Tokyo, and for the well-edited contrast and sharing of memories across time. It was a very nice experience. Thanks again. 🍕☀️😀🇯🇵
Thanks for being part of it!
what a contrast! haha
That was really nice, Martin! 😁🍕
Thanks for watching. This one is so close to my heart.
No sooner had the warm cheese mixed with the sauce touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory - this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little slice of pizza which on Sunday mornings at A Nostra when I went to grab a bite. The sight of the little pizza had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my slice of pie.