“This meatball reminds me of my grandmother’s,” my companion said, smiling down at the vast spread in front of us. Colorful chopped panzanella salad ($8) with bright tomatoes and briny olives and chewy hunks of bread; two lovely pizzas, charred crusts bubbly, laden with thin-sliced meats, bitter arugula, creamy goat cheese and more.

There was wine and water and, of course, soda. You can’t have pizza without soda. But he went for another slice of the hefty, half-pound meatball in its thick, warm bath of sauce, crowned with a dollop of ricotta ($6). “The one who used to hit you with a wooden spoon?” I asked.