NOMAN AND FELICIANO
A pizza shop owner works long, hard hours. In at the crack of dawn to fire up the ovens, locking the doors well after midnight and watching like a hawk all that goes on in between, day after day after day. If good fortune shines on you those days become years and in rare cases decades. Your constitution may be sorely tested but fatigue and the chokehold of monotony are assuaged by knowing that your product is uniquely great, seeing repeat customers show their loyalty and of course by making money. If the stars are properly aligned and the river don’t rise, slinging slices can be a very lucrative venture.
I discovered Pino’s Pizza House hereafter referred to as Pino’s in 1962, its first year in business. I was eight years old and a slice cost a dime, though the price would rise to a quarter all too quickly. The owner was a diminutive man with sparkling eyes, a ready smile and a thick Italian accent whose feet seemingly didn’t touch the ground. The guy never stopped moving. Kneading and tossing the dough — sometimes in the front window overlooking Beacon Street — carefully inspecting the soft mozzarella and homemade tomato sauce, even putting together the pizza boxes during a quiet moment or two. Sweeping the floor and cleaning tables was not outside his purview. This was while he would bark a command to a dutiful employee or two; as I came to understand the average tenure of a worker at Pino’s was easily in the low double-figure-year range. If he wasn’t behind the counter, Phil — I believe his given name is Feliciano — was at the ovens, later the grills, slicing the Italian cold cuts, vegetables and primo sub rolls, making tuna fish, judiciously inventorying supplies or supervising the receipt of them. The only thing he didn’t do was lie beside the pizza as it was cooking.
“End The Quest; At Pino’s You Have The Best.” Cornball but true. A large tomato and cheese pizza unadorned was — and is — simply the very best. Tastes change and experimentation is encouraged. Sausage, onion, pepper. Pepperoni. Extra cheese. Countless toppings all fresh and tasty but to the Pino’s purist, unnecessary. A large tomato and cheese pizza by the slice or by the pie remains Pino’s ticket to the big-time, to greatness. The definition of a staple in an ever-changing culinary world.
To understand the culture of Pino’s perhaps it is most prudent to begin by examining the Ten Commandments of “Life at Pino’s,” as conceived by — you guessed it — Phil. And I quote:
“1.) I intend to be the best boss you could ever be employed by.
- I expect you to be the best employee I ever could hire.
2.) Anyone borrowing anything permanently from the premises shall not be tolerated.
a. They shall be permanently dismissed.
3.) Soap and water is plentiful in America.
a. Please enjoy using it and use it often.
4.) Smoking while handling food is prohibited by law.
a. You are humbly requested to comply.
5.) We are here to perform our jobs to the best of our ability.
a. This is not a social organization or gathering place.
6.) Cleanliness of the premises and all working areas at all times should be maintained.
a. We work better in a clean efficient atmosphere.
7.) I am kind, considerate and gentlemanly to all people.
a. I expect equal treatment.
8.) All of us working together for the best interest of this enterprise shall help promote
its success.
a. Success of Pino’s can only contribute to you.
9.) The customer shall be made to feel welcome in our restaurant.
a. He is not disturbing us and we are not doing him a favor by
accommodating him.
10.) The customer is the life blood of this business.
a. Without him we need not concern ourselves with the above.
Respectfully…”
Today Mr. Feliciano — Phil — is eighty-six years old and he is my next-door neighbor. His elegant manse — a lovely two-family Italian-inspired edifice is also the home to his long-time protege, Noman Osmani and his family. Noman has been a mainstay at Pino’s since he came to this country from Afghanistan to finish high school some thirty years ago. He worked his way up the chain of command over time methodically, respectfully and with impressive acuity and has been the backbone of the operation for the past decade-and-a-half. Noman is the CEO to Phil’s Founding Father/Chairman of the Board role. They speak the same language if not literally then in every other way. Noman is the perfect choice to carry the torch, introducing new and creative ideas to ensure that Pino’s stay current while preserving the age-old traditions which have made it great.
Several years ago during a modest expansion Pino’s trademark flashing sign — after dark only — featuring the word “PIZZA” in tilted letters was joined by an accompanying moniker heralding the transition from pizza shop to restaurant. “Ristorante Pino.” Pino’s was now a restaurant with a menu befitting such an establishment including Appetizers, Salads, Dinners, a wider selection of Hot and Cold Subs, Sicilian Pizza, Calzones, Specialty Pizza, a medley of Individual Slice options, Specials, Cappuccino, Espresso and the like. Delivery, Take Out or Dine In. Gift Certificates. Catering.
“You taste the difference at Pino’s,” is proclaimed on the menu’s lower right-hand corner, unobtrusively. Another bit of colloquial language humble, unpretentious and true enough. The product of 57 years in business. And counting.
Make no mistake, this is no easy endeavor. And once it’s in your blood, it’s over. When he’s in town Phil visits Pino’s multiple times daily beginning before daybreak. He’ll tell you that the shop is only a mile away and that he’s just going for an espresso and to “dare consigli non richiesti” (to give unsolicited advice). To kibitz really, to shoot the breeze. But at that hour he’s probably by himself. No matter. There are things to look after; there is always something to be done. With all these years under his belt, it’s like breathing for him — he just does it. And he’s mighty proud of it, his creation; maybe even satisfied.
Rightfully so.
But without Noman???…
And not for nothing but how tough do you think it could be to live alongside your mentor at home and in the workplace, 24/7, 365? Takes a special person no doubt. But that’s what you have here. Two special people and Pino’s.
It’s busy. “Slice? Ten minnat.”
“End the quest…”
