At one point, the narrator stumbles on an “undeniable” piece of supporting evidence—a Buddhist statue from the Goryeo dynasty.
The statue’s rectangular hat, he says, could only be a pizza box. “I think this the first buy one, get one free garlic bread promotions of the time,” the narrator goes on to say.
Kim looks momentarily panicked—he needs to drop this order off before he can start cooking.
A large group of women with two foreign men are giggling and passing around selfie sticks. Pizza, the bank employees say the recipes tend to be more toned down than at other chains.
On online expat forums, pizza is a subject that elicits strong language and virtual throw downs.
That’s because if your idea of a pizza is charred, bubbled, and Neapolitan, or the cheap and nasty variety with ham and pineapple, pizza here can seem, well, very peculiar.
Christmas tree lights wink in the corner; folded, check blankets rest on chair backs; and Korean hip hop group Dynamic Duo plays over the speakers.
It’s noon, and as Kim boxes up the last pizza, a group of middle school students and Kia employees marches in.