El Greco Pizza's
El Greco – A Slice of Success From Pizza Tosses to Life-Changing Questions
El Greco was a great little business. Our main trade was takeaway pastas and pizzas, with a small dining room that could accommodate a dozen or so patrons. We bought the shop from two Greek fellows who insisted—quite emphatically—that it was the Greeks, not the Italians, who invented pizza. We didn’t argue. Their recipes and procedures were already well established, and to be fair, they knew what they were doing. Back then, food delivery services didn’t exist. If people wanted a pizza, they had to call in their order and come pick it up. Running the Business, Our workday began around 10 AM, prepping for the night ahead. Sheila and I would be in the back kitchen, while a young man named Ken handled the front. Ken was a great lad—tall, handsome, with a head full of curly hair. At just nineteen or twenty, he was already a true professional. He’d mastered the art of working the dough and taught me everything I know—how to knead it, shape it, and stretch it without tearing. During service, Ken became part of the show. He’d toss the dough high into the air, spinning it above his head as customers watched, wide-eyed. It turned waiting for a pizza into entertainment—and people loved it. Even the New Zealand All Blacks became regulars, dropping by for a good feed of carbohydrates before a game. The menu was simple, but it was loved. (See menu link.) A New Home As the business grew, we moved closer to the shop. Our new home was a modern three-bedroom town house, spread across three levels, with city views, an integrated garage, and a master bedroom with an EnSuite. By this time:
- Paul and Kathryn were at university.
- Julia and Phillip had gone overseas.
- Phillip had just completed his Engineering degree.
At home, it was just Sheila, Carolyn, and me.
Life felt good. Business was steady, and from where I stood, everything seemed in its right place. A New Question Then, out of the blue, Sheila asked me: “Have you ever thought about living in Australia?” I was caught off guard. I’d often talked about taking a holiday overseas, but moving? That was something else entirely. “Where in Australia are you thinking?” I asked. “Brisbane,” she said. That surprised me even more. “Brisbane? But you’ve never been there. “I knew Brisbane in the early 70s. It was hot, humid, and far from modern. It wasn’t Sydney or Melbourne. Not only that, but it was still growing into a city.
But once the idea was spoken aloud, it couldn’t be ignored. And to my surprise—Carolyn was on Sheila’s side. Looking back, I sometimes wonder: was I searching for success? Or was I simply chasing something unknown? Whatever the answer, that single question became the turning point. From pizzas and late nights in Auckland to a future across the Tasman Sea, the path ahead was about to change forever. Next stop: Australia.
But once the idea was spoken aloud, it couldn’t be ignored. And to my surprise—Carolyn was on Sheila’s side. Looking back, I sometimes wonder: was I searching for success? Or was I simply chasing something unknown? Whatever the answer, that single question became the turning point. From pizzas and late nights in Auckland to a future across the Tasman Sea, the path ahead was about to change forever. Next stop: Australia.