We're all about supporting local pizzerias - even those who are not Slice partners □CLICK HERE FOR WIN NEW IPHONE 14 - PROMOCODE: 4CD9ZO□ It’s a memory we’ll chase again next summer.Sawmill Pizza Nj jarlnematam1985 JanuSawmill Pizza Nj I couldn’t ask for a better day with my family at Sawmill. Eventually a pepperoni pizza would come, paired with a porter and a cream ale. The weather was a perfect August day-seventy and sunny-where the temperature doesn’t register as a factor in life. My wife stood leaning against a post, drink in hand. Arlo crouched in the grass just off the porch while Ellen looped circles around him. ![]() My ears were now trained to hear numbers, something they’d filtered out minutes before.Īs I returned with the ticket I noticed my children had vibrated away from the table. After placing the order they gave me a small ticket and I returned to our table. It was a retro wonderland, a palace to vibrant 50s formica dinette sets. Inside the small building was another blast from the past. ![]() My search for a wood-fired pepperoni pizza began. Smoke poured out of the top of the grain bin while boxes of pizza shuffled away from the bottom. I saw now that the smaller building where the musician’s were setting up housed the restaurant. During our visit, there were countless children running around, plenty of space to stretch their legs and grow their minds.Īfter settling down, literally for ourselves and figuratively for our children, I went to order pizza. At Sawmill this didn’t seem to be an issue at all, in fact it seemed the point. We do a great job, yet we remain vigilant. Even though we teach them that they have to sit at the table they can be tough to wrangle, primed for random outbursts. We try to be respectful of others when we bring our kids to breweries. There were less people here and much more room. We found it under the porch of the second shed. With our drinks in hand we went in search of a table to accommodate two small children. Both were empty-when the weather is nice and there is room outside nobody is sitting indoors. The first housed the bar and all the taps. “Should we grab some beer first?” I asked. At this point I spotted some folks exiting the first shed with drinks in tow. The gravel continued on to another large shed and to the left was a newer building with two small grain bins behind them-the bathrooms. Besides pizza and beer, live music was on the menu! We stopped at a crossroad. On the side facing the gravel road there was another covered porch with two gentlemen setting up amplifiers and other equipment. Across from the first shed was a smaller building with a grain bin next to it. To our left people had strewn out on the grass, picnic blankets and camp chairs of all colors dotted against the green. It was an anachronistic jumble-charming and delightful. ![]() Behind them were old metal signs of every shape and variety-brands lost to time. People packed seats spanning every decade. To our left was a large shed with a front porch patio. We walked on a small gravel road that connected the parking lot to the buildings. It was clear the two large sheds on their property were once home to farm equipment, nobody would build something like this for pizza alone. I’ve heard about pizza farms before but I’d never been to one. ![]() “Yep, and this one has pizza!” I replied. She’s had her fair share of taproom experiences, but this one would be different. “Are we at the brewery?” my daughter asked. He rubbed his eyes and buried his head into my shoulder. “This place is way bigger than I expected,” I said, as I lifted my son out of the car. “Pizza and beer, sounds like what we’re looking for,” I said. An old brick schoolhouse sat on the corner a hand-painted wooden sign pointed the way. We were returning from a weekend at my sister’s cabin in Hayward, Wisconsin and had decided to take a different route back. “I see a sign, right there,” I said to my wife.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |