This past spring, I spent some time in Chicago with my two
sons. During my culinary experiences in the city with the big shoulders, I got
to experience the cuisine that is the center of Chicago life.
Most of the meals I had at lunchtime were in plastic red
baskets with a waxed paper on the bottom, fries and some kind of sandwich or
finger food. But I knew I needed to try the famous Chicago pizza, so off the
Miracle Mile we found this sports bar and ordered the pizza.
Now we all know how great the pizza is in New York, the
originator of pizza as we know it in America, or really: New York. I’ve been to
Los Angeles, and there is no pizza there. If you venture to San Francisco, you
might get a good pie, and have since learned that there is no other place like
New York for good pizza.
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| Chicago Deep Dish made in Canada |
But I was determined to have ‘Chicago’ deep-dish pizza and
so pulled up to a table with my two sons and roll the dice. A young lady took
my order and I excused myself to use the men’s room. When I returned I found my
deep-dish pizza waiting for me.
Now pizza has to have a flavor that comes from the oven
alone. Everyone has experienced the crispy dough, the flavorful taste that
greets the pizza eater in that first bite. Then you get into the gooeyness of
the cheese and the garlicy flavored sauce that tops it off and finishes the
savory experience.
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| Real Pizza |
Did you ever build up the anticipation in your mind of how
something will taste? We all do that and when we do we discover that we are
disappointed. Being it is a one-man pizza, it is cut into four slices, and I
carefully extract the first slice, and carry it into my mouth. I bite down and
it is like kissing your sister! Nothing, just a dough bucket with melted
cheese, no flavor, no crunch, and no garlic taste.
As I chewed on the slice, my face must have indicated my
disappointment as #1 Son said to #2 Son: “See, I told you he wouldn’t like it!”
In New York, like everything else it offers, it even offers
many kinds of pizza. There’s Neapolitan, Sicilian, Grandma, Margarita and three
of the four come form Naples! Maybe if the Chicagoans put some pasta in the
deep dish and gave up on pizza, all would be well! Or maybe they need Papa John’s.
Ugh!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY SISTER FRAN!
On a cruise to celebrate as you read!
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