The Angelo Pizza

On Friday evening, after Hanukkah ended and after I finished ice skating, I decided to pay a visit to The Angelo Pizza on 2nd and Market. After I ordered, Angelo and I chatted for a bit while he made the pizzas. When he came to my order, he had a dedicated gluten-free spot for the pizza, and handled it differently. I was so happy (and thankful) to see this.

Gluten-free? It truly isn’t an issue at The Angelo Pizza. I heard him instruct his employees that when it came to the gluten-free pizzas, they had to wipe everything down and they had to continue making the gluten pizzas at a safe distance away. They didn’t step into the area.

To be honest, I am very grateful for Angelo and The Angelo Pizza. After the video went viral, he didn’t have to offer a gluten-free option. He did, and he did some research on Celiac disease and made a safe spot to accommodate the community. That’s an awesome business model there and it makes me feel verklempt. I thanked him and he agreed to a selfie.

Friday night was 17 degrees. I ate the pizza across the street in the chilly evening. It was beautiful to see the snow as well.

Yum! The deliciousness is in the dough and the sauce! L’chaim!

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Creator of the Happiness Box Project Initiative, a project where you write your happiness or gratitude each day, then open the box in the New Year. The Initiative is to teach joy and gratitude, to pass it on to others.

One thought on “The Angelo Pizza”

  1. Hi, Jessica Marie!

    Yummy yummy yummy, I’ve got Angelo Pizza in my tummy, or at least I wish I did. I’m glad you made it over to your new favorite after skating eatery. It was nice of Angelo to keep you company while your pizza was baking and to make sure it was GF and not mixed in with other orders. Based on the pictures, it looks like a super clean shop and the pie looks out of this world. Clearly Angelo knows that pleasing customers like you is good for business. I applaud him. Your post is an excellent testimonial for The Angelo Pizza and I hope bunches of people see it.

    WHAT? 17 degrees? When the temp plunges to the mid 40s down here as it did Friday night into Saturday morning, we hit the panic button. I remember it being 17 degrees in York at the start of 2002 when I flew back home for my dad’s funeral. My teeth were chattering as I stood on a windswept cemetery hillside for the service.

    Happy Christmas, dear friend JM!


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