It was October 1977. I was traveling through Europe with a Eurailpass, my destination, Venice, from where I would sail by ferry to Israel. Coming to Italy from Geneva, I decided to start my visit in Milan. I arrived in the early afternoon and found a hotel near the station. After settling in, I went out for some lunch. I was in Italy! I wanted a pizza. It didn’t concern me that pizza was a Sicilian dish. It’s sold everywhere, so why not northern Italy? I looked for a pizzeria, but that word did not exist here. I settled for a trattoria; the red and white checked tablecloths made me feel comfortable. Sitting in a nearly empty eatery, I expected quick service, even though this was Italy. A waiter brought me the menu. I opened it and right away found a page dedicated just to pizzas. The first was Pizza Margherita. I wanted pepperoni, a sausage popular in New York, but couldn’t find it in the list. I ordered Pizza Margherita and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally the head waiter came to me. He said,

“Sir, you ordered Pizza Frutte del mare. Are you sure you want that?”

What I didn’t want was an argument with an Italian waiter at my first meal in Italy. Maybe I wasn’t being assertive, but this pizza or that doesn’t make much difference I thought, and the point was to eat, not wait even longer while they prepare the right pizza. I responded that I was sure I wanted it.

Within a very short time I was presented with a pizza with baby octopi all over it. The waiter left me and walked over to the head waiter and another waiter standing near the entrance, then took his place for the show.

I realized now that this mistaken order was a challenge to the tourist who pretends that he knows what he’s doing and doesn’t ask for help with the menu. I would eat the pizza with the baby octopi without a fuss, just as if I had really ordered it. This was of course my first encounter with octopi as food. They were rubbery in texture, very chewy, and bland. I do not advise eating such creatures, but there are worse mistakes in life. Slowly and deliberately I went through my pizza, leaving nothing for the cats in the alley. Eventually the waiting staff got bored and returned to other tasks. I had met their challenge and defeated them.