Posts in Tag

pizza

My pops loves deep dish pizza. When I was seven or eight, he drove my mama and me for what seemed like a very long car ride to eat at Uno’s Pizzeria. My parents lived in Chicago before I was born. There are pictures in old family albums of my mama standing knee-deep in snow, wrapped in a pink scarf and moss green coat, a small smile etched painfully on her half frozen face. I wonder if it was from their time in Chicago when my pops’s affinity for the

Following my post about Russian River Brewing Co. in which I raved about their pizzas, I’m sharing my unfussy recipe for Margherita pizza. I like the simplicity of a Margherita, which is traditionally topped with only three ingredients: fresh plum tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and fresh sweet basil. In case you hadn’t noticed, the colors of the three toppings are red, white, and green—coincidentally (on purpose) the same colors as the flag of Italia. It’s popular belief that a chef made the tri-colored pizza for Queen Margherita of Savoy during her

In my last post, I discussed the cheaper eats in New York City. This time, I continue the NYC gastronomical tour by talking about some of the additional places at which I dined, the not-so-cheap but also the not-so-expensive (I’m saving that for part 3 of this NYC series). Basically, these are the in-betweeners, the delicious, the memorable. Ever since I’d gone to Japan and tasted what real ramen is supposed to taste like, I’ve been on an eternal hunt for a close imitation this side of the Pacific. There

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. I can’t even remember the last time I was excited about V-Day. Maybe in middle school when carnations and candy-grams were sold, and the more you collected, the more popular you looked. How lame and superficial now that I think back on it. But those were the woeful days of adolescence, I guess. Now that I’m thirty-something and have a permanent Valentine, Valentine’s Day has turned into a consumer-driven joke of a holiday. It’s not even really a holiday. We all still have

With less than two full days left in the Bay area, John and I tried to cram everything food-wise into our schedule. We woke up early Monday morning to a dreary, drizzly day and made our way north to wine country. We meant to drive across the Golden Gate bridge since we were heading to Russian River in Santa Rosa first, killing two birds with one stone so John can finally see the acclaimed bridge he’d so often seen in photos and on TV. But being heavily dependent of the