My sister should have called her baby Zeppole.
While pregnant she got hooked on this venue’s cinnamon and sugar-powdered doughnuts.
Anyway, my nephew isn’t named after an Italian pastry, but is still extremely plump and sweet.
I’m probably going to miss Roly-poly’s first birthday later this month, since we are all being cheated out of special occasions. Still, I can celebrate in my own way, by raising a slice of pizza to my mouth.
The owners of this place, The Civerino’s Food Club, also have the original Civerino’s on Hunter Square and The High Dive in Newington.
They’re an innovative bunch, and, despite the difficulties, are managing to survive, bringing succour to stress munchers like me. Use them, or lose them, I say. You can order through Deliveroo, cut out the middleman and phone them directly or download the new app from their website.
As well as the usual offerings, you can donate an NHS Pay it Forward pizza, £10, for the staff in a local hospital ward. While, for bored families, there’s a Dough It Yourself Activity Kit, £19.99 for four, which includes dough, sugo, mozzarella and semolina, so you can make your own.
We’re not up for the work though, so went for three of their dirtiest sounding 14-inch pizzas.
We went all Pavlov’s dog when the doorbell rang and saw their white boxes, decorated with a mustachioed pizzaiolo and our order scribbled in marker pen. Drool.
The other half of my household unboxed them, since I was on a video call to my sister. I turned my phone round, to show off our wares.
“You’re NEVER going to eat all that,” said the jealous voice on the line. Ye of little faith.
Of our selection, the return of the mac (£13.50) was here to rock the show. I’ve had macaroni cheese in a pie and toastie, but never on a pizza.
Along with clumps of pasta, this sugo-less disc had a thick waxy layer of applewood smoked cheddar, so each bite felt like chomping into a dental mould, for a satisfying double carb experience like no other. To lift the cheese-fest, there were also chevrons of sriracha mayo, crispy shallots and chopped parsley.
I also loved the pineapple express (£14.50), which substituted this fruit’s usual partner of ham for mozzarella, mega hot Calabrese sausage, Parmesan and spring onions.
The lowrider (£15.50) was maybe a step too far, with a topping of sugo, clods of carnitas pork, guacamole dollops, crushed nachos, sliced red chillies, buffalo mozzarella and coriander, as well as a pot of sour cream, but I still appreciated the comfort it could bring to those who love this crispy snack.
We’d also got a side of Civerino’s fries (£6) and were presented with a small-ish box stuffed with a ton of skinny fries, clumped together with a web of melted mozzarella and sprinkled with house seasoning.
“So, did you eat it all?” texted my sister, an hour later, while we lay on the sofa like basking seals. I said yes, but actually, no. It was dinner too.
Since we’d tried to order their zeppole doughnuts, but they were off that day, we called on Swedish cafe Soderberg, delivering to various Edinburgh neighbourhoods Friday-Mondays (www.soderberg.com). I logged on and hovered my mouse above cinnamon buns, kladdkaka, parsnip cakes and Swedish farmer loaves, while sold out signs kept popping up.
I eventually panic right clicked on their mazarins (box of four for £12) in the original flavour, as the mixed berry and pistachio varieties had flown. Luckily, it was the right choice, as it was hard to think that these buttery almond paste tarts, with a topping of smooth white fondant icing, could be better in any another flavour. We’d also gone for the huge and rich raspberry brownies (box of four for £12), made from Valrhona chocolate powder. They were sophisticatedly rich, with fat berries pushed into their craggy surface.
Amazing, what a treat – plump and sweet, just like my little nephew, Zeppole. (Happy birthday when it comes). n
49 Forrest Road, Edinburgh (0131-225 4026, www.civerinosslice.com)