After leaving Southeastern CT for good, at least that's what I thought in 1988, I've called many places home.
First in Orlando, where I worked on motorcycles & jet skis, than to Pennsylvania farm country where I milked my fair share of cows, than to San Diego where I turned 21 yrs old working at The Hard Rock Cafe, than north to Lake Tahoe, where I was the quintessential ski bum, conquering Squaw Valley before X-Games.
Than came the Colorado years, 15 of them from what I recall.
From Steamboat, to Golden, to Morrison, to Boulder and Denver. Were all places Santa came to deliver my chunk of coal every year..
All these life experiences brought me to this exact moment in time. Back to Southeastern CT by choice, where I bought my first business in 2007, a little country market in Salem, Ct named after my mother, Babe's.
A few swings and misses followed both personally & professionally, until the birth of The Rolling Tomato in 2011.
A perfect match for my mobile & nomadic lifestyle..
FYI... Who Knew all my pizzas are named after my family & friends pets, past & present???
Growing up with a single mother who was a career waitress, 20 yrs at a restaurant in New London, CT called Hughie's, put me on a career path in the restaurant business where I was able to master the art of customer service & pick up a few tricks in the kitchen along the way. Which ultimately lead to the creation of The Rolling Tomato as we know it today..
That path has allowed me visit 46 states, where I hiked knee deep in mud while in Hawaii, traveled to Alaska to paddle Class IV whitewater outside Denial National Park & camp in a tree tent high above the beaches in USVI, just to name a few of the highlights.
I've also been lucky enough to have my passport stamped in 12 countries. Some of those highlights include running with the Bulls in Spain, getting lost in Paris looking for Jim Morrison grave, mountains & mountains of fun in Switzerland & while in Rome, I almost lost life & limb on a rented scooter.
Flashback, the summer of 2001 brings me to Northern Italy on the Mediterranean to a place called Cinque Terra. After cliff jumping all day, we climb so many stairs I lost count, where we dined in cafe overlooking the sea that served some of the best seafood pasta dishes I've ever eaten, as we drink wine practically straight from the barrel..
That's where I had my first taste of Neapolitan pizza and the seed of my passion was born.
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