Smelling Like Garlic

Half a century ago North Miami had a sizeable Italian population, probably an equal number of Jews, and the rest was a hodge-podge of plain 'ol white Americans. There was a small black neighborhood, but it was just across the city's northern border in North Miami Beach. Marcella's was the place to eat spaghetti, or go for pizza on a date after a football game. She started out making pizzas in a bar owned by her husband. The pizza business prospered and grew. She moved from the little bar on 139th St. to to a great corner location just across the street at 12th Ave. and West Dixie Highway. It was the place to order pizza, and she had several three wheel motor scooters zipping all over town making deliveries. She opened another location on Miami Gardens Drive, and then a third in Freeport, in the Bahamas.

Eventually Mario The Baker opened almost across the street from Marcella's on West Dixie Highway. There was more than enough enough business to go around. Then she got in trouble with the IRS, the story goes, and things came crashing down. Mario prospered, but still there was competition a couple miles to the south. Mama Jennie's on N.E. 2nd Ave. had her fans too. Like most culinary experiences everybody has their favorites. I think people mostly still agree that Marcella's garlic rolls remain unequaled but I'm willing to drive past Mario's just a few blocks away to get to Mama Jennie's when I want some great spaghetti, and the rolls are nearly as good Marcella's, if my memory allows. I was so excited over the taste of the garlic roll I was biting into that I screwed up aiming the 15mm lens in this shot so I'm barely in the frame, and then my fingers got so covered with garlic and olive oil that I decided not to mess up my Bessa camera and just eat the food.