We definitely don't live in Grecoville

In the Maritimes, there is a chain of pizza places called Greco pizza. You can see their website here.

I can't remember exactly when I had my first taste of Greco pizza, but I do remember that they were part of our Hot Lunch program in elementary school. We didn't have a cafeteria at my school, but they had Hot Lunch, where they would prepare or order in food that you could pick up at the home ec kitchen and bring back to your classroom. I believe that Thursday was pizza day for the longest time, and for $2 you got two slices out of the Greco Party pizza. At some point we started having Greco sub day, where you could buy one of their small oven subs (basically all their pizza ingredients, inside of a sub slathered in garlic butter, topped in cheese). I have fond memories of waiting in line for my paper plate, napkin, and two slices of pizza. I'm not even sure I liked that pizza more than any other pizza I had at home, but it really kindles feelings of belonging and a warm nostalgia for the third grade.

Greco had two great jingles that I can remember. One was their phone number, and went "three ten thirty thirty - GRECO! three ten thirty thirty - GRECO!" and played on the radio quite often. The other campaign had a song that asked the question "Do you live in Grecoville?" implying that Greco is everywhere, and everyone lives in Grecoville, we are all in one big happy pepperoni eating community, and to be part of it, all you have to do is call three ten thirty thirty and you're part of Grecoville too. I haven't lived in the Maritimes for nine years now, and I still remember the jingles vividly.

Cut to a few months ago, when my friend Ems, who lives on an island outside the city, mentioned Greco to me. Her boyfriend is from Newfoundland (herein he will be referred to as The Newf), where they are also part of Grecoville, and he went psycho when one day they received a flyer saying they had opened a Greco Express on their island, right up the street from their house. The Newf is a big fan of the Greco Donair, which I was never partial to, but to each his own. Anyway, she said he made the whole family pack up and drive to this tiny gas station, which had a tiny Greco station set up inside, but that it was indeed the real thing and tastes just as good.

So, yesterday Sexy Boyfriend and I got it in our heads that we wanted Greco. We had to have Greco, no matter what. We left the house at seven pm, and by the time we drove to Greco, waited for the lady to make our OvenSubs, then drove all the way back home (because the tiny gas station didn't have anywhere that you could sit down to eat your OvenSubs) it was nine o'clock. Two hours! For OvenSubs! I almost starved to death.

But holy shit they were good.