A Slice of Heaven

I am not one for birthdays. Don't like 'em. I don't celebrate mine and don't expend many brain cells remembering anyone else's. Why do we focus on one day to celebrate someone, especially someone who did nothing to deserve it and just laid there screaming when it happened? If people want to know when to be nice to me, I suggest that they just be a little nicer everyday and don't hide behind the birthday concept to justify being a jerk on any other day.

I also feel that way about secular "days." Why live by the man's rules and sit in the box with you sheep, waiting until the calendar tells me it is OK to thank a veteran or be proud of who you are. I work to recognize all that is around me everyday and make each day special. With that in mind I decided to focus today on pizza. I really, really like pizza.

Before I started on my pizza hop (like a bunny hop but replace carrots with garlic powder) I wanted to find that book store that was recommended to me by that other bookstore. If you didn't read yesterday's blog in which I mentioned the bookstore, go back and read it. It mentions a bookstore and another bookstore. It's like you were actually there, right? I found it and went inside. The proprietor was honestly confused as to why his store was recommended because he doesn't deal with sidddurim but he did say that I could check in a bin in the basement. In it I found some really neat books that would have been too heavy to get back to the US. The guy asked for my phone number which I felt was a bit forward, having just met, and when I told him that mine was a US number he backed off. I knew he wasn't serious about me, so I left empty handed but happy because bookstore. 

David had recommended that I start  at a pizza place near the Great Synagogue (star of "It's the Great Synagogue, Charlie Brown!") called Gvina v'Agvaniyah (Cheese and Tomato). It was open, as evidenced by my ability to walk into it. It lacked any people, though. This was noon, and all good people know that noon is a wonderful time for pizza, assuming you have finished with your 10AM and 11AM pizzas. A man emerged and I asked about pizza. There was none, but if I waited 10 minutes, he would have some. I told him that I would try to come back (but heck, time is pizza). I then officially tried but my feet insisted that they beat a path to the otherwise. So in sum, my review: very low calorie but lacking in flavor.

On my walk back towards Ben Yehuda, an Israeli couple (you can just tell) asked me for directions in Hebrew. Joke's on them because I'm an idiot. I feel doubly sad for them; bad enough they think I know Hebrew, but to rely on me for anything related to geography is a really bad idea. Based on what I told them in English, they are currently walking to Tel Aviv. They made their choice.

I passed a store called "Dead Sea Wonders" so I figure that they sell salt and the ability to float.

After a failure at the book store and the pizza place, I finally hit pay-pizza. I found the Pizza Hut (I'm against shacks, but I'm open to the idea of huts). I knew the sauce would be sweet but for the experience, I wanted to try it. While I was hoping to establish a standard purchase, this store only had a thick crust medium sized pizza so I used that. The crust was fluffy and not really crispy and the sauce was, indeed, sweet. But it is a reasonable slice if you have never had pizza before. And today, I hadn't. Also, you might be concerned about my slating today for the pizza hop because I did have the meat pizza at dinner last night, but I'm in Jerusalem so, in accordance with Jewish law, the day begins in the evening before so, yeah. On the side, I got a COKE Zero because after getting 1 (count 'em, 1) hour of sleep, caffeine is my friend. Until it isn't but that's a later-me problem. Later me is typing this up, cursing then-me. Why can't we all just get along?

My review of this pizza: my reaction might be clouded by the lingering flavor of toothpaste and insomnia in my mouth. It was 12:30 and the store was still empty. One slice was 12NIS and the soda was 9.90. The ardboard was cool looking, with the Pizza Hut name and logo on it. It was shaped somewhat like a slice of pizza (in Israel, you don't get a plate, you get a piece of cardboard on which to hold your slice because in the middle east, trees grow different).

Next up, I found a place called "Pizza Kim'at Chinam" (apparently affectionately known as "Kim'at Pizza"). While there were two guys working there, they were doing nothing related to the production of pizza. So far, I was 1 for 3 which is an inauspicious way to start. Do people not eat pizza until 1PM here? That's so very wrong. Another place called "Craft" listed pizza on the window but it looked like one of those upscale places that gives you artisinal napkins and thinks you can call a foccacia "pizza" and that makes it so. I kept walking.

I made it to the bottom of Yafo and turned to head back up, finding Pizza Mamila almost immediately. The cardboard here is just a simple rectangle and the crust looks store bought and is wicked sweet. It has potential but it never truly lives up to its potential. Maybe if it tried harder or did more homework. And somehow my pizza got confused with every parent teacher conference my parents ever went to to discuss my middling existence. The cheese (on the pizza...we're back to the pizza now) was so-so and the sauce was mostly missing. And the guy served it to me cold and never volunteered to heat it up. I chose not to say anything because I knew that if I was able to communicate the idea of "oven, hot pizza" to him, I would lose valuable righteous indignation points. He should have known to ask. So there. The slice was 10NIS (maybe heat was extra) and the most appealing qualityies were that it had pizza available before 1PM and had a great view of the old city walls. (once you left the store).

Anthony's Pizza caught my eye from a distance and I figured if it's called Anthony's Pizza it probably has pizza. That's called a "tell." These are more "authentic" pizzas. Authentic pizzas are not really round -- more blob shaped, like me so I felt seen. They have basil leaves on them and just scream "rustic." The young woman behind the counter sounded American and asked me if I wanted the slice heated up. Two points for Pizza-dor. The "slice" was a rectangle but to compensate, she put it next to the cardboard and not on it. 16 NIS. It was a good decision not to put it on the cardboard because it was a thinner and flimsier than it should be. The slice was tangy and fancy. The cheese had a buttery aftertaste and a rectangular fancy slice can't be folded easily until there is almost none left. Sauce here also was very understated, more seen than heard and the basil asserted itself at odd moments. I ate with a knife and fork (had to make a shehechyanu on that).

Rony's Pizza was next. 12 NIS and they give you 1 napkin. Most places didn't have any so there's that. The slice looked like a regular slice but it was WAY too sweet. I didn't order a dessert pizza fella. It was hard to assess individual flavors because of the sweetness which is a pity because it looked like it should be good. On a scale of one to ten I would weigh a lot. Side note -- I really gotta get me one of them electric scooters. Half the world is uphill at any given time and having an electric scooter would level the playing field.  Back to the pizza, the cardboard was the standard white rectangle (SWR in singles ads) and was much better at being pizza than the pizza was.

Then off to Big Apple Pizza. 15 NIS (plus I got a water). Very thin crust and not sweet at all. More pronounced salty notes, and almost a half whole-wheat vibe thing going on. The closest so far to a slice I would recognize in the US of Pizza. To clarify, the slice is not especially big, nor is it made with apples, big or otherwise. It is weird to say but after my slices, the one with the best crust and overall flavor was the meat one from last night with big Apple coming in second. The Big Apple slice was accompanied by a SWR but the napkins read "Big Apple Pizza" on them so, ohh la la. As I reached the edge of my slice, I bit into something unpleasantly spicy. I called a 2 minute minor for "spicening". It was not fancy, but BAP is the old reliable for we furriners.

By this time I had had my fill. It was 1:40 and I had downed about 5 slices so I headed back. That much pizza on an Ashkenazic stomach is like playing Russian Roulette with a pizza. And the pizza goes first.. Best safety lies in a bed and access to indoor plumbing. AS I walked back, I feared seeing another pizza place as I would have felt obligated to try it out and that would not have ended well for, well, anyone. I thought I saw one out of the corner of my eyes and I knew that closing my eyes and blundering forth was not an option so made sure not to make eye contact and turned to walk the other way. I cut through the shuk hoping that, on the one path I took, I would not come across any pizza paces. The shuk was busy but negotiable. Inside it was so vibrant alive and colorful. They had every possible color of Gummi Worm. So exotic.

I returned to find Yoni had returned from his trip to the US. I asked him for an update on my country tis of it and he explained that it was hot. Parsing that report should take me ost of the night. I decided to sleep on it. After my nap, I spent time with the family and Nomi and I worked on the Social Security issue. With Judah H's help we got in touch with a passport office and a nice woman gave us some new avenues towards resolution. Huzzah! The system works as long as you call in favors and ask no questions.

For dinner we were to have pizza. David was making from scratch and it was this decision that prompted the day's walk. I wanted to be able to assess his in the light of all the others I had tried. So I did and I must say, his wins by a wide margin. The edge of the crust had risen and was crusty and crunchy. The cheese was really good and the sauce just tasted "right" y'know? Also, there was corn meal on the bottom, so points for authenticity. I scarfed down a few slices, pronounced him the victor (and Nomi the Victoria?) and startred thinking about when I should begin not sleeping.

I might still go to another place or two tomorrow (second day of Yom Tov because I'm an American only here on vacation). Or I might not. This is the essence of free will. I have no idea what I'm doing until I read about what I did.