When you leave the Metropolitan Area, you quickly learn that you will not be eating real pizza for awhile. I love and adore you, Chicago, I really do, but that is NOT pizza. It is a fabulous, delectable, and delicious Cheese Pie, but not pizza. Call it something else, and we can end this seventeen year debate, you and I.
My first month in Chi-town, my roommate, the Juggernaut as I like to call him, came home to find me on the phone discussing the merits of NY Style with a FedEx agent. I'd called them hoping to find a way to ship myself a pie from NYC, but in 1994 it just wasn't happening. But the agent and I had a lovely, thirty minute conversation about pizza. To this day, The Juggernaut likes to make fun of me for that desperate attempt to acquire a slice when I was surrounded with "pizza" in the land of Deep Dish. Whatever. He'll never understand. Unless he saw last night's Daily Show.
☯ I Eat Cannibal