Mike D rumbled into town for the seder Erin and I hosted. I don’t know how we crammed 17 people into our apartment, but we managed. They say wine is a social lubricant, maybe it acts as a physical one as well.
Mike D, who is achingly single, has a habit of using the word “sexual” as a complimentary adjective. Thus, we enjoyed a sexual pizza. Fun fact, did you know there are 4,500,000 hits on Google for “sexual pizza” (sans quotes)? I don’t recommend seeing for yourself. The internet is an interesting place/thing.
This being my second pizza during Passover, I came prepared with matzah this time. I scraped off the cheese/toppings/sauce and put it on the matzah, thus making a matzah pizza. It was good, but not as filling as the usual pizza. I was glad when Passover ended.
Mike D didn’t score big with the ladies during Pesach, but he scored all kinds of schwag from us. Erin and I gave him the leftover pizza, a cherry tomato plant that’s literally dying to be planted, some potting soil and some wine to take back to Texarkana.
blurry billy bicket
I had pizza with two very different friends recently. Michelle and I talk about boyfriends and girlfriends, friends and family, drama and more drama. Billy and I talk about the nature of the semantic web and innovation in the nptech space.
Michelle was in town for the wiener dog races in Buda, and Billy lives part of the year here in Austin. I hadn’t seen him in forever and it was Michelle’s last night in Austin, so the worlds collided and we went to Homeslice.
We started talking about girlfriends and women in general. It was a weird conversation, I often feel odd when people from different spheres of my life intersect with me present. Sort of a blurry event, like the photo.
I love Kendle and Brian. When Erin and I moved to Austin last year, we crashed at their place until we found one of our own. Sadly, Brian faced the ass end of the economic collapse and was laid off. They decided to move to Dallas for better job opportunities, albeit with an admittedly lower quality of life. We managed to have a couple pizzas with them before they took off.
Kendle is a finicky eater, and not generally prone to trying new things. But since all toppings are free and I was goading her, she tried roasted red peppers, and was pleasantly surprised by their inherent deliciousness.
Hot and Bothered
Alex is awesome. He thinks these things (free pizza) always happen to me, and as the greatest food lover I know, he’s happy to come along for the ride. He crashed with Erin and I frequently in California, bringing his culinary glory into our life. One day we got home to the sounds of Bob Marley and the smells of the fresh pesto he made with the basil he picked from our garden. Another time he made coconut roti (from a coconut he ground himself, he doesn’t do coconut milk), a bunch of Sri Lankan veggies and a papaya dessert. He’s the only non-landlord we’ve ever given a key to, and he’s earned our trust by doing things like letting himself into our place and making Erin a black forest cake for her birthday.
He liked the pizza. A lot.
Happy Rod
One of my college buddies, Rod, came to town to eat some free pizza and visit Erin and I, I’m not sure which order came first in his mind. He thought the pizza was pretty good, but he was most impressed by the price. We went multiple times during his visit, once right before Homeslice closed, which I felt sorta bad about. But we tipped well and weren’t the last ones out the door, so I think I’m still in the waitstaff’s good graces.
His email, bugging me about getting the website up, has been an annoyingly successful reminder to actually follow through with it.
You’re welcome, Rod.
Yeah, it was that cold outside
Ruth is my friend Andrew’s sister. Andrew and I both studied abroad at the National University of Singapore in 2002. We became great friends, and after a drunken promise one late night, ended up spending a couple months in India hanging with his (and our friend Laksh’s) friends, aunties and long-lost acquaintances. Our paths have crashed on other continents in other years (most recently in New Zealand last year after selling Dimples), and our friendship has grown strong despite the distance.
So when Ruth was cruising through America after spending a semester in Canada, she stopped through Austin to see Texas and eat some pizza. It was really neat hanging out with her, I’ve never spent significant time with the sibling of a friend before. They share certain traits and mannerisms, but she’s definitely her own person.
She thoroughly enjoyed the free pizza, although it was a little too cold to be sitting outside. Being a Kiwi, she handled the weather better than I did. She had quite the culinary tour of Austin: free Homeslice, Nubian Queen Lola’s, Torchy’s, Taqueria Star, Amy’s Ice Cream and more.
It was refreshing to talk to a visitor to America. Even though visitors and immigrants come here in droves, I rarely engage them in meaningful conversation. If I could change anything about Austin, I would give it a little more international flavor. For instance, by adding Ruth full time. Ruth, mi sofa es su sofa.
leftovers
I finally took the office out for pizza. It had been hard to pin down a time because Dr. Allen (the awesome state rep I work for) is only in town for three nights a week, and those are often taken up with social/work events. We finally went as a staff and ordered two pizzas, a first for me. It was fun, we all get along as a staff but rarely sit down together and hang out. Dr. Allen had been starting to question whether I actually got free pizza or not, so I finally put it on the calendar and we made plans around it.
Dr. Allen told stories about her two little dogs, Oprah and Martin. There’s a family of raccoons that peak their little heads out every once in a while from the little alley way just north of the building. I wonder if Martin and Oprah could take them on. Probably not, raccoons are vicious little assholes.
The waiter forgot that I had won the contest, so the bill came back pretty high (we had salad, wine, etc), but he patched it up once I reminded him. But the bill was still more than $70. It seemed so foreign having such a high bill.
They provided for me for most of my life, I provided free pizza. We're even.
When I got bored during the hands on an eggplant sub contest (which is how I won the free pizza, see the “The Story”), I called people to tell them about my predicament and pass the time. Mom and Gene were much less surprised than everyone else; their tone implied it was just another chapter of a predictably crazy life. They seemed to know I was going to win.
After hearing about Homeslice for months, they were psyched to finally try it. Mom is involved in a women’s business owners group and finagled a way to come down to Austin for the weekend to do some work for them. The first night we went to Homeslice, and after being seated by some very nice hostesses, ordered up a fatty pizza.
Mom and Gene loved it. Marco’s Pizza is the best in Dallas, and they thought Homeslice was far superior. The styles are pretty different, Marco’s has a very thin crust and lays the sauce on much thicker. Beating Marco’s is a big deal.
Mom always tells a story about her Grandma Ida’s trip to Rome. Upon landing in Italy, she tried some pizza, and promptly announced that it was nowhere near as good as Marco’s in Dallas.
Thus, I present the transitive property of pizza: If Marco’s is better than Italian pizza, and Homeslice is better than Marco’s, Homeslice is better than Italian pizza.
As you might remember from my first post, I ended up becoming friendly with a group of Austin musicians. Trevor invited me to pizza with Raina and their friend Hunter Paye. I felt pretty cool eating pizza with three real-life starving artist musicians. It was the first time I’ve ever socially interacted with a musician whose music I knew ahead of time. They regaled me with stories of sex, drugs and rock and roll, and I regaled them with pizza. It was a good trade. Raina and Hunter even gave me CDs as a thank you, and Raina’s made its way to Erin as a birthday present.
My friends Greg and Marlo came through Austin on their way to San Antonio for a weekend vacation. I forgot that the day they came was First Thursday, when South Congress stores stay open late, artist booths proliferate and street musicians ply their trade. Everyone else thinks it’s charming and neat to walk around in the evening in one of the supposedly weirder parts of Austin, but for me it’s more of a hassle.
We put our name on the list and walked around for a while looking at all the stuff to see. There was a lady selling homemade gingerbread cookies at the unbeatable price of 4 for $1. We each got one, with Greg, Marlo and I all choosing the Texas shape. I forget what Erin chose.
The pizza was pretty damn good, and we had a great table for viewing the pizza tossing. I don’t know if I forgot to order anchovies or they forgot to put them on, but the waitress bought a little ramekin full of them. I learned a good lesson: raw anchovies aren’t as good as cooked anchovies. The heat from the pizza oven takes the edge off the saltiness, and decreases the sliminess factor. They hadn’t tried anchovies, and didn’t appear too likely to do so again after trying them cold. Nevertheless, Greg and Marlo were pretty impressed by Homeslice. It’s a pretty un-Dallas kinda place.
Later we came home and brewed a batch of homebrew beer. It ended up taking a lot longer than I thought, but that just meant we got to drink more beer along the way.
