Sal learned the pizza biz from the best.
Seemed like all the Uncles owned a restaurant at one time
or another, but Uncle Sal was the only one who made it a career--if you call cutting the grated Parmesan with flour a career.
Salvatore (Sal) was the third oldest son. My father picked up pizza from Sal's on Friday nights, and on Sunday's we'd eat at the restaurant in our favorite red-vinyl tuck-and-roll upholstered booth.
The anchovy caught my attention early, and I remember many Sunday nights consuming gallons of milk, Kool Aid, soda, water or anything else liquid to quench my salt-driven thirst.
Sal had a heart attack in his 60s and had to cut back on his cheese intake. He also had to walk around the block every day.
He didn't like either one, and took it out on all of us.