About my Newsletter
Each week I eat at and review a different fast food chain. Of each newsletter, about 25% is writing about the food, service and ambience, another 25% is sentimental reflections on what the chain meant in my childhood and what it stands for today, and the other 50% is a personal journal entry. Recurring themes include housing affordability and finding work/life balance as a freelancer.
That lack of culture in my food is something I often find myself lamenting. It is no such problem in Italy. I rarely, if ever, consumed native ingredients growing up so don’t feel any connection with Australian fare. Further back, my lineage served up the stock standard meat and three veg dishes that got my Irish and Scottish ancestors through the Depression. My grandmother died in 2011 and I don’t know if she ever ate pasta. She was always cooking for the entire family though, so I guess that is as close to Italian as you can get while preparing corned meat with white onion sauce.
Family, and its importance in Italian food is something that gets overlooked by most quick service places, but not by Criniti’s. The dine in restaurant has something quite special about it. There aren’t many chains that could seamlessly blend in at Wolloomooloo Wharf, but it does. Even more impressive than that feat is the chain’s mammoth menu. I’ve already made it clear that I’m not a fan of multiple page menus, but at a place so dedicated to decadence, it is just another part of the experience.
My favourite Criniti’s dish is the metre long pizza. I can’t think of a family activity I’d sooner undertake than gorging myself on 50+ slices with my immediate bloodline. Such an experience brings even strangers together, combining acts of generosity and community with an undying love of cheese, sauce and carbohydrates.