Foodlove

This week has been a killer. I've been up at 5:15 for work every day, something that I haven't done in at least two years. Even now, looking at the clock knowing that I'll get five hours at best again is making me wish for a different situation. That might not even make a difference, though; I haven't slept well in some time. No idea why... maybe there's something I'm needing to do, like in the Bible where if God wants to get ahold of a guy, He doesn't let up until He's got his full attention. I'm hoping I can listen up soon, if that's the case - I could use the shuteye.

The previous post wrapped up earlier than expected on account of two things. First, extricating complete thoughts on the subject was proving to be more difficult than usual; again, probably the sleep thing. Second, the crazy schedule of both Sarah and I being back at our respective schools has meant that our time together is way diminished. We've seen each other for about 3-4 hours a day the past week, and I needed to go hang out with my girl.

Tonight was a bit better. Sarah and I headed down to Grand Avenue to pick up my tux for the wedding this Saturday (!). Since we were down there later on and neither of us had eaten, we ate at Punch Pizza (I feel like their name warrants an exclamation point in there, or even two: Punch! Pizza!), where the only parking spot in the lot was being taken at that moment by former Senator - and probably the best hope the Republican Party has for the gubernatorial bid - Norm Coleman. He had his "I'm just here for a pizza, like you" face on, so that was that.

It was my first time eating there, and only my second time ever eating authentic wood-fired oven pizza, but it could easily become one of my most favorite things to eat in the world. There's something so primal about the wood oven, and the simplicity of the pizza: mine was the Margherita, which to them is just hand-crushed tomatoes, mozzarella (flown in from Naples the day after it's made - how sweet is that?!) and fresh basil. There was absolutely nothing left on the plate. If it's something extraneous that doesn't add to the meal, I'll try it, but generally will leave it at that. Pizza crusts are a perfect example; they're ordinarily nothing special. However, the super-crispy Neapolitan crust had this perfect balance between the crackly, charred outside and the soft doughy inside... like a baguette, only even better. It takes a lot to make this guy eat his pizza crusts, but I had no trouble doing so this time around... a sincere compliment of the highest order. Punch Pizza, I'll see you again soon.

I had originally planned to delve much deeper into what I had begun yesterday, but once again time goes way too fast, and the morning comes way too early. It'll still be rolling around up in my head tomorrow, most likely.