I was one of those nerdy kids that went to music school several times a week. Every tuesday, thursday, and saturday night, my mom would pack up me and my violin and ship us over to the School for Strings on West 54th. While I would eventually grow to love music, I can't say that the hours of cruel and painful practice or standing in line playing "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" in unison were what made me look forward to music school nights. Nope. It was the pizza, and more specifically, the pizzeria.