pizzaesque

Last night, I went out to Mosaic Cafe in College Park to share a Mezze with a very nice gentleman named Ross. I tried Manakish with Za'atar for the first time, which was tasty and somewhat pizzaesque, at least in shape. It was a bit greasy, but I think that had more to do with the restaurant than the dish...it's certainly a dish I would eat again. It had a strong thyme flavor, and I adore thyme. But let's be honest---I'm SO spoiled on middle eastern cuisine. Both times I've eaten at Mosaic, I just wasn't impressed. Their falafel was over seasoned and a bit mushy, and while many things we tried on our Mezze were pleasantly spicy, none of it was all that great. The real problem was the bread though--just a plain somewhat dry pita. Too thick. Everything would have tasted much better with a fresh, thin, chewy and warm blanket of lavash. I can at least look forward to going to Shawarma King in a few weeks when I'm back in Michigan.

Anyhow. It was worth noting though that I was in good company, and I ate something tasty and somewhat pizza-like.

Jersey Shore Style

This past weekend, I trekked to the Jersey Shore and had a wonderful weekend with my family and friends. Now, I'm struggling to figure out how I can re-appropriate the acronym GTL for my pizza blog...um...Greasy Tasty um...Lunch? Are there any words starting with L that are associated with pizza? Or starting with G or T for that matter? I'm thinking of slice, pie, um...yeah, even Za (shudder...) Other slang we know of? Please share!


Anyhow, while down the shore, I tried to maximize my pizza exposure by eating pizza flavored Combos during my drive up, and by going to 'A Slice of Heaven' Saturday night.

The combos...where to begin? Do they even count as pizza-esque? It's hard to say--certain pizza flavored things do manage to be pleasantly reminiscent of pizza. Case in point? Keebler's Pizzarias in the 80s and 90s. Best pizza chips EVER. Good enough that petitions for their return exist. But the Combos? Um...well. Not so great. They were the pretzel type, and...they mostly tasted like pretzels with cheese dust, not pizza-esque. It needed...more modified tomato product and artificial oregano essences, I think. They did fulfill my need to chomp on things whilst driving in traffic, so in that sense, they were satisfying. However, in regards to flavor and satiation, they failed quite miserably as a foodstuff.


Once I arrived at the shore, I got to spend some wonderful time with Anne and Karen, two of my best friends from Kalamazoo. Anne has been mentioned here several times already, and even been credited as my inspiration and muse for the pizza blog. Karen, however, was unaware of the pizza blog prior to this weekend. She's been inducted, now, and was a willing pizza accomplice Saturday night when we went out on the town.

We started our evening at Fantasy Island Amusement Park. Were my fantasies fulfilled? You know it. How, you ask? Well...they had skee ball. And no shore vacation could be complete in my mind without some serious skee ball.

All of that skee ball, however, works up an appetite, so of course we had to grab a post skee ball slice next door at Slice of Heaven. Yes folks, you read it right. I got to experience the fulfillment of my fantasies and heaven both in one night. Such joys can only be had at the Jersey shore, clearly.

Was my slice heavenly? Texture-wise...yes! It was a very nicely crisp but pliable thin crusted slice. Toppings wise? It had fallen from grace a bit. The sauce was weak and a bit too canned tasting, and the cheese was a bit oily and cheap tasting...that is, by the end of my slice, it had congealed into something more like solid grease and salt, and less like a dairy product. But, nonetheless, a slice at that moment did make me quite happy.

hot pockets

So, when I was out of work and uncertain of my future, I bought a bunch of hot pockets--well, lean pockets--cos they were on sale. Is it a good idea, nutritionally, to go on a hot pocket diet? Absolutely not. And this is especially true when there are only two vegetarian varieties of lean pocket: cheddar and broccoli, and pizza. But whatever. For a week I was having a hot pocket for either lunch or dinner, and, with the sale price, they broke down to less than 75 cents per meal.

Now, a pizza hot pocket counts as pizza-esque, so I'm going to review it. The box proclaimed some nonsense about a newly improved seasoned pocket. I don't have much to compare for, so I'll take their word for it, but the seasoning seemed to be mostly salt. Newly improved salted crust? Ok.

So, for those unfamiliar with hot pocket preparation, let me fill you in. Hot pockets do not come with origamiable boxes. No no. They come with crisping sleeves that, in theory, transform into carrying cases post-microwaving, for ease of carrying, and mess and burn free eating. But, look. I ate like, half a dozen hot pockets in two weeks, and let me tell you. The crisping sleeve fulfills neither of it's purposes well. My hot pockets were neither crispy, nor easier to handle thanks to this sleeve. In fact, in all cases, whilst following the microwave instructions to a t (and then later modifying them due to failures), every single time the hot pocket ruptured inside it's crisping sleeve, oozing saucy cheesy goo out of the sides of the sleeve. The subsequent mess made folding the sleeve into it's carrying pouch shape near impossible, and also defeated any neatness potential from the sleeve. The thin cardboard also did little to protect my fingers from the hot grease and cheese oozing from the hot pocket's core. I found that the best preparation method was to place the hot pocket in the sleeve out of simple faith or a childlike yearning to believe (one believes in the crisping potential of the sleeve much in the way one believes in leprechauns or the easter bunny), then place the hot pocket and sleeve on a few paper towels. Then, post microwaving, wrap the heated hot pocket in the paper towels to consume, slowly pushing it up through the cardboard crisping tube from the bottom, much like a push pop.

Uh, so. Yeah. How do they taste? They taste ok. Like cheese, sauce, and dough. The pizza ones are significantly tastier than the broccoli and cheddar ones. The dough is a bit gummy. They taste like junk food. They taste like salt. A lot of salt. They taste like they're not gonna fill you up. They taste like when you're done eating them, you're gonna feel like you didn't eat anything at all. And actually, often, they don't taste like much at all because I always burn my tongue on the first bite, when the innards explode onto my tongue like an erupting volcano. Also, I just re-read that last sentence and I'm thinking of breaking into a new literary genre of food porn writing.

Anyhow. The point is, I'm glad that I have a job again and I can stop eating hot pockets. The other point is, I won't be entertaining Jim Gaffigan jokes, so zip it.


On an entirely different note, my grandfather's kidney is failing. I'm not handling this news well.