The Cranky Crit Returns: Papa is For the People!

Editor's Note: The Cranky Crit is back with his first blog since who knows when. It's a welcome homecoming blog. Long live Papa Gino's! (Link to the Globe article for those who haven't read it!)

Dear Devra,

What an abominable piece you chose to publish in the Boston Globe today.

I speak for the widespread outrage and indignation sparked by your callous article and share with you this common defense for those that cannot defend themselves from an equal pulpit.

Your first mistake is to assume Papa Gino’s and its patrons are lonely and depressed by your comparison to Hopper’s famous painting. I argue that many of us are tired of the crowds of the Seaport and the Back Bay, tired of the constant browbeating of the new restaurant economy, tired of the faceless, formulaic national trends that have invaded and supplanted our local institutions. We crave the respite of a warm local pizza joint without having to elbow our way through a crowd of millennial tourists to order a forty-dollar beer from a rude and smug bartender. Nighthawks abound in this old town and we are glad you avoid our favorite havens.

Your next mistake is to assume that people don’t eat at Papa Gino’s anymore. I am proud to be part of a social group that meets every week for the all-you-can-eat special and a chance to catch up on the gossip of the day and watch our brethren win a few stuffed bears from the claw crane. No pizza is good when you drive it home. Eat at the restaurant, when it is fresh and hot from the oven. Politely ask Dave to cut the pie into sixteenths, sprinkle on some shaker cheese, and wash it down with a cold fountain root beer.

And if you must drive it home, make sure you eat the pizza first! Did you really eat the mozzarella sticks, ravioli, chicken tenders, buffalo wings, steak and cheese, and spaghetti and meatballs all before you tried the pizza? Small wonder you did not enjoy it!

Now Devra, presumably you are not from around here. You do not cradle the fond memories of your father bringing home a large Papa’s plain cheese after a long day at work. You do not remember the all-you-can-eat nights with your high school teammates every Tuesday of every school year from August though November. You do not recall the countless birthday parties, summer picnics, and Red Sox games that were once synonymous with Papa Gino’s pizza.

You omit the fundamental nostalgia that makes Papa Gino’s what it is. You could not possibly understand what this institution means to those who were raised on their pizza, who find solace in the memories and camaraderie that fill their local stores. The last thing our Papa needs right now is a thoughtless, crass, and hurtful piece about the quality of their mozzarella sticks. Those of us that remember Brigham’s, Bickford’s, Friendly’s, and Bertucci’s are mortified to see another of our sacred family establishments vilified in the public realm.

My neighbors! Why do we allow such people a pulpit to sully and besmirch the good institutions of our parish when neither birthright nor qualifications afford them any grounds on which to form an opinion of our pizza? Why are we expected to sit by and abide such slew in our fine newspaper?

Devra, we suggest you spend your time critiquing the growing swarm of faceless, inhumane, bankrupting, trendy new restaurants that have hatefully supplanted our beloved classics and spend your ink on their television chefs and swollen profit margins. Perhaps Shake Shack should be next on your list?

Leave us our Papa Gino’s. Leave us our traditions. Leave us alone.

Sincerely,

Offended