Before surrendering all pretenses of being an adventurous, or independent traveler, I should add that my in my previous experience, Lithuanian pizza (or rather, piča) is generally unlike what you’ve likely sampled in Italy (or Little Italy for that matter.) Indeed, it’s one of Lithuania’s most popular dishes, often offered at restaurants that otherwise strictly serve only Lithuanian selections. Thus, one could say that piča is as traditionally Lithuanian as tempura is Japanese. It features traditional Lithuanian cheeses rather than mozzarella, and tends (like everything else in all three Baltic states) to be topped with a sprinkling of dill. It’s generally served with ketchup and mayonnaise, which give a new meaning to the concepts of "topping" and "pizza sauce."

My previous experience with this dubious delight could rather more accurately be described as discomfort food, given the speed with which it propelled me in search of a water closet. Consequently, I entered Bambola with some trepidation, but was relieved to find that despite Klaipeda’s rather liminal position on the tourist map, they served pizza in forms familiar to Lithuanian and foreign palates alike. The décor, which appeared to have been entirely supplied by the Coca-Cola Company from American factory seconds, judging by the number of times both its logo and English-language slogan appeared, I’ll leave it to you to decide whether this is a slice of home or simply that corporations’ eponymous brand of colonialism.

In any case, the friendliness of the English-speaking service I received was a matter of fact rather than opinion, my server took the trouble of explaining, as I have above, the distinction between piča and suggested a meat and mozzarella covered concoction that would be suitable both to my palate and my rather loudly growling stomach. She cautioned against my ordering lasagna as well – my interest having been piqued by a couple of locals who were clearly enjoying Bambola’s traditionally Italian (or perhaps American?) take on this delicacy. Instead, I selected a fresh though entirely unremarkable salad composed of iceberg lettuce, julienned carrots, and tomatoes. I resisted the advertisements around me and washed it down with a Coca-Cola logo-emblazoned glass of orange juice, which combined for a rather stomach settling effect. The pizza itself was quite solid, nothing exceptional by non-Lithuanian standards, but certainly the filling, metaphorical slice of comfort food that I desired. If you’re looking for the same thing, for a reasonable price, I recommend that you also go to Bambola. They don’t take reservations but it’s quite popular so arrive early to avoid disappointment.