Pizza, sort of

We've been out of town, so here's a quick catch up: Thursday night was pear and gorgonzola pizza topped with arugula that I tossed with salt, pepper, and raspberry blush vinegar. Whoa, did you just step into a 1990 Bret Easton Ellis novel or what? Yeah, I know, every time I'm in a restaurant and see what is basically salad on top of pizza, I think: that is sort of weird and pretentious. So obviously I was compelled to do it myself. I had some dough that I froze many months ago (I think it was actually snowing when I made it) so I figured I'd use it up in the frou-frou-iest way I could.

The arugula adds a nice peppery hint of snobbery.

Anyway, we're in Mansfield this weekend for my Granny's 90th birthday. On Friday afternoon, we packed light and zipped up the ever-delightful 35th Interstate. It was a beautiful day.

I guess when we have two kids we'll just get a U-Haul for weekend trips.

Like a band of gypsies, we crawl down the highway at 35 mph.

At least we arrived to a nice buffalo chicken salad and smooth Belgian-style trippel. Hooray for Yaya and Pawpaw's house!

In an effort to relax this weekend, I've been trying not to notice anything humorous.

1 comment:

  1. It's amazing that not only was it the 35th Interstate to be built, but it's name is also... ohhh... wait. I see what ya did there.