My daughter Shannon and her husband, Mike, live in a very small (but cute!) apartment. Like most people in this country, Shannon and Mike have more than enough “stuff,” especially after their wedding last summer. Therefore, when birthdays roll around, my husband, Clif, and I try to back off the amount of “stuff” that we give, not only to Mike and Shannon but also to our daughter Dee, who lives in her own small (but cute!) apartment in Brooklyn, New York.

Being a family that loves books and movies and food, Clif and I usually come up with birthday gift bags that include a DVD, a book, and a homemade treat that the birthday person especially likes. When Mike had his birthday last month, we included these usual suspects in his birthday bag. But Clif and I also wanted to give something else that wouldn’t involve stuff, and we decided to make up our own certificate that would entitle the holder—that would be Mike—to a ticket to the movie Inspector Bellamy, showing at Railroad Square Cinema on March  5^th as part of their MIFF in the Morning film series. As bagels are a big part of the film series, the certificate also included a bagel and coffee. Then, for the grand finale, pizza at Grand Central Cafe after the movie.

Grand Central Cafe, just across the parking lot from Railroad Square Cinema, has a brick oven fueled by wood rather than gas, which is used by so many pizza places with brick ovens. I understand why restaurants would prefer gas—it’s easier to handle, both as a source of heat and as a method of cooking. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but it seems to me that pizza cooked with wood heat is crisper and has a smokier taste than pizza cooked in a gas oven. (It would be interesting to do a blind taste test to find out if this is true or if it is wishful thinking.)

Yesterday, being March 5^th, was the big day for bagels, the movie, and pizza. The ever environmentally-conscious clan Graves/Mulkeen carpooled in the Honda Fit to Waterville for bagels, movie, and pizza. Clif brought his camera so we could get a few pictures of Grand Central Cafe. I also had a chance to talk to James Bannen, one of the pizza chefs.

I learned that James has worked at Grand Central, off and on, for about two years. The owner, Elise Rich-Colton, taught him how to cook pizza in the wood-fired brick oven, and James refered to her as “the master.”

“How long did it take you to learn?” I asked.

“A month to make consistently good pizzas and another month to get the hang of juggling orders.”

A large perfectly browned Caveman pizza, which featured chicken, sausage, pepperoni and several kinds of cheeses, came to our table. Clif and Mike, both pizza hounds, ate most of it, but Shannon and I each got a piece, too.

While Shannon and I like pizza, we could never be called pizza hounds, and we, in fact, shared a roasted veggie trio sandwich made with brick-oven grand bread. But that pizza looked so good that we couldn’t resist having a slice. And I think it’s fair to say that James has reached the master stage of making pizza. If there is better pizza in Maine, then I haven’t had it.

Now, if only Grand Central would make calzones with a chocolate hazelnut filling. Life sure would be good.