You know what's really awesome? An eleven dollar pizza that's twelve dollars after taxes, and you can eat it for two meals for two people! That's three dollars per person per meal. That's pretty fly in my book. There's a Papa John's pizza near the apartment and they had a pepperoni special going on for just $11. You can order it online too I think, but somehow I still don't trust online ordering systems for pizza places. I prefer calling... or just showing up and waiting for it. Highly inefficient but I dig it. Plus, food that I grew up with really do not get a fair shake on Food in Mouth. I remember when Pizza Hut was the shit, and then all of a sudden Papa Johns came along and put peppers on the side in the pizza box, and they gave you a butter dipping sauce. Well, that butter dipping sauce is gone now... but the peppers are still there. Sure, this doesn't really touch any of the pizzas that's hot in New York currently, but it strikes a great balance between affordability and nostalgia.... [Continue reading]

9 comments
December 5, 2011 at 3:59 pm

Forcella is the new thing in the pizza realm. They've received attention for a fried dough pizza that's supposed to be a marvel. By the sound of it I thought it was supposed to be a gastronomical invention that would marvel that of nutella. But as with all things, I can count on one hand the number of things that have changed my life. The first was unlimited internet. Damn, half of you don't even know how awesome it was to get 14.4k unlimited awesomeness. The montanara pizza ($10) at Forcella is a dough that's deep fried for a short period of time and then adorned with toppings and then baked at a high temperature. It's... interesting.... [Continue reading]

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December 2, 2011 at 11:48 am

Some days I try to think of posts where food relates to sports, and the sports relates to life. Such comparisons are always stretched too thinly. Loving sports and food is tough. Food just doesn't seem to relate to life. How do you analyze spaghetti to a cook's personality or to an eater's? Dining descriptions have a life their own, and seem to know its boundaries. When food stories evoke emotions it's often about quality time with family and friends. Perhaps it's learning to cook from a grandmother or spending one-on-one time with a parent at a ballpark. I'm generally critical of memoirs because if you live your current state in such vivid details that can be recalled later, then either your diaries could be worth fortunes, or the embellishments and adjectives are monetarily placed. When I look at authors of memoirs, it fills me with rage. My anger is placed both on their ability to live a moment so fully and also with their ability to artfully articulate memories with vivid details. "It's all about quality ingredients!" That's the mantra de rigueur, although recollections are often panko crusted, infused with oils, and drizzled with lemon juice. Words, like food or sports, in the hands of a crafty veteran usually results in something of beauty. I, on the other hand, barely qualify to be a rookie, especially when it comes to food. Once, I got bored in a tiny Brooklyn kitchen, and tried to reduce tequila in a cheap pan from Chinatown. Man, shitty times. As for describing the food, I'm still not getting much better. That's not going to stop me though! And maybe I'll find a sports analogy in there somewhere.... [Continue reading]

2 comments
June 20, 2011 at 6:10 pm

At some point in your life, the cabbage patch was the dance craze. If you were born after that craze, I don't know you. You probably dabbled in it at some point. Maybe it was a party where you didn't know anyone or a time at home when you busted out limes and tequila all by yourself. Note: that wasn't me because I was like 9-years-old back then. Right now the "How to Dougie" instructional video is on my desktop. Time has changed, although the desire to dabble in what's hot hasn't. I haven't even started to learn the dance, and am already anchored by self-doubt. Move on my toes? Slide my knees this way or that? Impossible. That's how it goes when I dabble in a new thing. All of a sudden I look around to make sure that no one saw it. No evidence? The awkwardness didn't happen! With food it's often the same story; try something new hoping to understand what the buzz is, but maybe the wrong item is ordered or it's an off day. I stopped by Campo de Fiori when they were about to wrap up lunch service, and snagged up the last Margherita slice.... [Continue reading]

3 comments
March 16, 2011 at 1:54 pm

Douchebag. If that's the first word you hear about someone, you generate an impression instantly. If you listen to Fresh Air, donate money regularly to worthy causes, and don't believe first place should be the only place... then maybe you wouldn't pre-judge someone. But I'm a motherfucker and judging things is fun. Conversely, if the first word you tell me about someone is 'honorable' or 'trustworthy', then I know you're not talking about a Wall Street guy or Dubya. The same thing applies with food. Very often my eyes are drawn the words describing proteins. You get my saliva flowing when you talk about shrimp or bacon or steak. Easily you could follow the word of protein by saying it's simply dotted in the landscape like a scarecrow in a cornfield, and I wouldn't know better (Talk about short attention span, huh?). A seasoned eater should know better, but I feel like if a menu had a ratio of protein to everything else, then I could make a better decision. Like if you told me the first thing about a pizza is coppa or Capicola, then I would guess it's sorta prominently featured on the menu. But then the pizza comes and it's maybe 5% of total toppings and I feel like it was fucking a cheat. Before we get to the taste of the pizza though, let's talk about the bread.... [Continue reading]

6 comments
March 14, 2011 at 11:11 am