There are situations in life that only a calzone can cure, most of which take place after an evening of heavy drinking. My guilty pleasure, when I indulge in delivery, is a calzone from Sarpino's. I'd be ashamed of it if it weren't so gosh darned good. No matter from which of their plentiful locations you order, it somehow arrives at your door before you can slip into your best Snuggy. This delightful treat reminds me of when I was a fatty in middle school and spent my weekends on the phone with Pizza Hut ordering P'zones. Other than the freezer of Sarpino's, I have no idea what the origins of the calzone are. What I do know is that it's basically a small pizza folded in half, and I like that.
