Kim Coffaro, a classmate in 7th floor dorm for only one year at SCC, obviously Italian, liked to boast of the amazing spaghetti sauce that was prepared by her father using a secret family recipe, with fresh tomatoes and various herbs and spices of unknown combination, cooked and placed in a jar in the sun to ferment further by sunlight until reaching the proper level of zesty flavor. Ok, so, that's nice. Even so, obtaining the secret Italian recipe is not that important to me as a priority in the whole scheme of things. I am content to buy my pizzas at the local Italian restaurant, usually for pick up myself, only 5-10 minutes drive, to avoid having to pay the added delivery tip, although if convenience warranted a pizza delivery we have done that also on occasion.
Thus, I see no reason to continue this conversation with the dreary Coffaro clan, always so full of themselves and not much else. San Francisco is just too far to go just to get a pizza.
