Photo by: Justin Edmonds
The delicious taste of the pizza is dependable (count on getting exactly what you want!) and the friendly staff at the family owned parlor is worth of a repeat experience. So good, the Rockies cater Fuhgidabowdit to players and opposing teams during game day. Also, free delivery and open until 3 a.m. for night owls.
“Yo, Rich how about a pepperoni pie?” a coed clad in Yankee garb echoed in front of me in line.
“Sure thing, coming right up,” replied yet another authentic New York accent, spinning pizza dough like a lasso.
The promising aroma of sizzling mozzarella upon entering “Fuhgidabowdit Pizzeria” has patrons wonder whether they’re walking in off 57th Street and 6th Avenue in Manhattan, instead of University Blvd and I-25 in Denver.
Owners Rich Rodriguez and Jeff Masciangelo scope out regulars ranging from professors engaged in intellectual banter, a mom wiping tomato sauce of her baby’s smiley grin, and the obvious twenty-somethings devouring lunch while flipping pages of textbooks.
The steaming pepperoni pizza just removed from the oven beckons hungry glances from the other customers waiting to order (including a woman in a competing pizza joint uniform just blocks away).
Finally at 12:15 p.m. (after ten minutes in line) it was my turn. I opted slice of Caprese, a healthy and vegetarian selection, and its counterpart, meat double-stuffed in crust.
$9 is a good deal for two slices of pizza, slices bigger than shoeboxes. Cooling off my bounty, each piece requires both hands and my full attention to avoid sausage or tomato spillover. Beginning with the Caprese, my eyes close in heavenly delight that such deliciousness isn’t entirely artery clogging. Capers frame the plump tomato slices, making the presentation of this ordinary pie simply delectable. The chopped parsley adds the right amount of taste to the Bocconcini cheese. The double-stuffed pie is a hearty meal, and one slice could satisfy the hungriest of eaters. The collaboration of sausage, pepperoni and beef enclosed in a lower and upper layer of baked dough twitterbate my taste buds.
By 1:30 p.m. the lunch hour rush has dissipated to a scattered few. I investigated Fuhgidabowdit’s signature wall, a mural depicting the subway, complete with a painted guy in a Yankee jersey, and hundreds of messages and signatures you’d see in any underground train car.
Noticing my intrigue with his graffiti-encouraged wall, Rich explains, “That wall tells a story of everyone who has entered this joint.”
“Really?”
“I mentioned repainting the wall to Jeff last week and a customer interrupted our conversation, telling us how her and her daughter ate lunch here the first day she attended DU, exactly three years ago. After realizing the wall was really a canvas of memories, we decided it was here to say,” he said, pointing to a signature from a Colorado Avalanche hockey player, raving about the food.
One comment on the wall begs, “How much would it cost to get a pizza delivered to Michigan.”
I can barely make out a scribbling, “Rich and Jeff make the best pizza in the world, and the rest can forgetaboutit.”
If you wonder around the DU campus you’ll notice kids donning sweatpants and T-shirts with Fuhgidabowdit logo on the back.
Glancing at the three tables of leftover customers from lunch and chomping on what appears to be a vanilla cannoli, and apparently reading my mind, Rich pronounces in his New York drawl, “Yo blond, we’ve got some canollis. You still look hungry.”
Before I could argue, he had a cooled canolli next to my newspaper. Diving into my wallet, startled that someone would insist I eat his dessert, Rich said “No, No, canolli is on the house today. Like it?”
My mouth occupied in the sweet delight, I couldn’t reply.
Before venturing out into cold winter I couldn’t help but ask Rich about rumor I’d heard. “So, is it true you guys are sponsoring twin snowboarders on campus, one of them won nationals last year?”
“Yup,” Rich responded. “We want to support our customers and the students around here. Their competitors will see “Fuhgidabowdit” on the back of the twins’ jackets during a snowboarding race, and they’ll know they can forget about winning.”
Distributing T-shirts to loyal patrons is rewarding, Rich reveals, which is their best form of marketing (since they don’t pay for any advertising). Pursuing a dream of opening a pizzeria, the two former NYPD cops couldn’t be happier.
Before leaving their humble eatery, Rich tells me that one day he’ll be back home in Brooklyn and see someone in a “Fuhgidabowdit” t-shirt, and that’s when he’ll know the dream has come true.
