“Our Neighborhood Pizzeria: A Haven of Joy and Autism Acceptance”
“Even as my son screamed and cried and jumped, we were treated respectfully and kindly. The staff set the tone for the other diners. We never had the feeling of hairy eyeballs on us that was so common in other places.”
Like many families with autistic kids, we used to avoid going to restaurants. An unfamiliar environment we couldn’t control was the perfect recipe for chaos. Eating out meant a menu that might not include our child’s safe foods. Coping behaviors might emerge, drawing unwelcome attention: stares, judgment, disapproval, comments, or unsolicited advice that makes us feel unwelcome.
But just like other families, we crave a “third place” where we can relax. So when we discovered Wheated, a gourmet pizza restaurant in our Brooklyn neighborhood, it filled a huge hole in our lives.
Our Third Place: A Neurodiversity-Affirming Pizzeria
I won’t soon forget the tang of the first sip of Umbria or the texture of the pizza’s sourdough crust. But what will stay with me forever is how the restaurant staff made us feel.
After a few visits, my son was on a first-name basis with the owner, who was also a huge soccer fan. He’d chat with my son about soccer as if he had all the time in the world, while the restaurant bustled around us. No matter what drama happened during the week, we had our Sunday night ritual to look forward to and to savor. The servers knew our complicated order and didn’t blink at all the substitutions.
[Take This Self-Test: Signs of Autism in Children]
We would arrive most Sundays just as they opened for dinner. We reserved the same table in the back corner every time. There was loud music, and at times our kid was overstimulated; at other times, I was overstimulated. Waiting for the food was hard. Sometimes, our son moved around in ways that were not the safest for the wait staff and the other diners.
But the staff was gracious to us, always, even when patience ran out on both ends. Even when my son had a meltdown during one of our first visits. Thankfully, it happened to be Super Bowl Sunday, and we were one of the only families there, but the moment was hard nonetheless.
Even as my son screamed and cried and jumped, we were treated respectfully and kindly. The staff set the tone for the other diners. We never had the feeling of hairy eyeballs on us that was so common in other places.
A Friendly and Inclusive Space
The more we visited, the easier the dining experience became. I brought art supplies and noise-canceling headphones. We danced in our seats near the open kitchen, where our son could watch the chefs twirling dough in the air. There were some swift exits and half-eaten meals—but through these experiences, my son developed new skills, and we enjoyed ourselves together.
[Read: “A Love Letter to My Son’s Special Interests”]
We became loyal customers. Eventually, over years, our son got used to the many noises of a busy restaurant. He learned dining etiquette, how to order his own dinner, and where he could safely stim while keeping the aisle clear for servers. We took our family and friends to the restaurant, and were able to have lovely, relaxed celebrations because our kid was known and accepted for who he was there.
I will forever be grateful to that restaurant for helping my son gain social skills and confidence while accepting him unconditionally. The sense of belonging to a “third place” will stay with him as he grows up and branches out to other restaurants and public spaces.
I’d like to think that our family had a positive influence on the restaurant as well. (At the very least, we tipped well!)
If you’re looking for that “third place” for your own family, don’t give up. Inclusive places are out there, and they are delicious.
Autism Acceptance: Next Steps
- Free Download: The ADHD-Autism Link in Children
- Read: 4 Autism Myths — Dispelled
- Read: How to Process and Accept Your Child’s Neurodiversity
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