Monday, December 17, 2007
1 & 1/2 and already an inconsistant restaurant critic.
There's a really great pizza place around the corner on Noriega called The Pizza Place on Noriega. It's owned by some hard core Red Sox fans from Boston...so I'd go there even if the food wasn't really fricking good, which it is. Snappy loves it. Pizza is her favorite solid food, so she really goes to town on a plain cheese slice. The waitress coos at her "How you enjoying that slice" to which she replies "Mmmmmm". Admirers figure she is a cute toddler who likes to eat pizza. I figure she's a culinary genius with a palate worthy of the Cordon Blue.
Last week, we went to Milano's pizza for some post-tree buying grub. Supposedly, they're good. We stupidly ordered the garlic bread...which tasted nothing like something covered in garlic and butter should taste. Retardedly, I ordered the pesto pasta, which tasted much like I imagine the inside of that weird creature that Han Solo put Luke Skywalker in: you know, really gross and totally not worth it even to save your life.
I wanted to just get the check, give a nice tip to the waitress who was super nice, and then run out quickly before the pesto ate a whole through my plate. Snappy wanted to chill out and devour a slice of (passable) pizza and four or five handfuls of TaunTaun-Belly pasta. Mmmmmm. That's good TaunTaun.