Well, as the title suggests, the topic of this rambling session is of the betrayal of the beloved food item, the pizza.
This evening, the wife and I decided that we were going to go to a favorite restaurant known as "Oreganos". The topic on my mind was that a person simply could do no better than a 10 inch, deep dish delight called "Numero Uno". So, I suggested it to my wife, and lo and behold we were off to the pizza palace.
First of all, if a person decides to go to a restaurant on a Saturday night, he/she seriously needs to get his/her head examined. The wait alone was 20-30 minutes, and if you have ever ordered a deep dish pizza at "Oreganos" (which I had), you would know that the time to cook the pizza will be roughly 40 minutes. Honestly, the entire endeavor took us nearly 2 hours to finish. Secondly, and much more importantly, the pizza itself has always tasted a little different to me, but I never had thought about it since it was sooooo good. Well, I convinced my wife to fore go her normal pasta garbage, for a manly (or I suppose in her case womanly), helping of Mid-Western goodness. Who was I to think that such a beloved friend of mine would end up being a caesarion Brutus, stabbing my family in the back. I mean, he was always such a pleasant pizza, granted very unhealthy, but reliable in the taste. I suppose that is why the shock of such a betrayal has hurt my wife and I so very much, because it truly is the person, or should I say pizza, you least expect. You see, as I was contentedly enjoying the company, and yes even the taste of my dear friend, my wife noticed something was a little different. Much like in a murder mystery where the inspector first notices that the woman in the red dress is holding something very sharp and dripping with something red, my wife noticed that this specific pizza was tasting a little different. "NAY" I exclaimed in sheer horror that my wife would accuse my friend of such an offense. "Nay, I say unto thee. My friend has always been honest and loyal. HOW DAREST THOU, accusing such an honest and true pizza. Was it not he that chased away the hunger that I once felt so deeply? Was it not he who dispelled all notions of mediocre '5 Dollar Pizza'? Surely you canst not deny the love it has for thee. Surely..." Well, deny she did, three times if I am not mistaken. For shame...
Well, even though I had a deep love for my friend, I could not deny my wife in pursuing her action, asking the waitress what is wrong with the crust of the pizza.
"Fermentation, it tastes like it doe." Rachel said (imagine a bad British accent). "I'm a bread conisure. I makes me bread, tastes me bread, and loves me bread. And THAT is an impostor." WHAT!?! A proverbial Duck in Bread's clothing!?! Well, the fine hostess explained that the pan was greased in a very fine layer of olive oil, and perchance that was what would be wrong. "MANAGER!" Rachel screamed! "MANAGER, GET ME THE MANAGER!"
Well, the poor manager ran as quickly as if a rabid dog had developed a taste for man blood (or meat) and was on his trail. Meekly, kneeling down, he bravely asked what could possibly be the matter. "Your dough is bewitched!" Rachel bellowed. "Bewitched I say! I tasted fermentation and I say its been BEWITCHED!"
The manager bent his head down, in almost a whisper said well that could be because of our secret ingredient.
Wait a minute, secret ingredient? It has a SECRET ingredient? What possible secrets could my beloved friend withhold from me, his nearest and dearest friend.
"We pour in just a hint of Bud Light..."
...
...
What?!?
What?!?!
WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
How could that be???
How could the pizza withhold such vital information???
No, it can't be...
Why?
Why!?!
WHY!?!
Why did it have to be HIM???
There were so many other pizzas with sub-par ingredients. How could it not tell me? Why would it do this?
I asked the Manager to please tell me it was not so...
This could not be happening. There was just no way that this could be real. A joke, yes he must be telling a joke! HA HA HA!!! What a fine jester he must be. But a joke it was not, and the truth was finally revealed. It was there, all those times I had held it. Bit it. Loved it...
It was evil.
At the core, it was evil...
The Bible teaches that Satan will tempt you with fine things, but THIS, THIS seemed too far.
Well, the sin dealer, aka Manager, did give us the pizza for free, but honestly what man would want it now. The truth was revealed. There was no way to deny it.
So, here I sit, typing out my pain. Is there no real love in the world? It feels as though my faith has been shaken.
As my wife has so aptly but "I feel betrayed. They lied to us. They used vile 'trickeration'."
I suppose all I have left now is my other love, Taco Bell, but the world seems, just a little bit darker...and...a little more lonely.
Some final advice, for those who believe that love still does exist, know who your eating. Know it well, and know it true because sometimes your world can be destroyed. Sometimes, the ones you love the most can attack suddenly striking at you in your nearest and dearest places, your heart (tear).
This is Pirate Dan signing off, Good Luck...
This evening, the wife and I decided that we were going to go to a favorite restaurant known as "Oreganos". The topic on my mind was that a person simply could do no better than a 10 inch, deep dish delight called "Numero Uno". So, I suggested it to my wife, and lo and behold we were off to the pizza palace.
First of all, if a person decides to go to a restaurant on a Saturday night, he/she seriously needs to get his/her head examined. The wait alone was 20-30 minutes, and if you have ever ordered a deep dish pizza at "Oreganos" (which I had), you would know that the time to cook the pizza will be roughly 40 minutes. Honestly, the entire endeavor took us nearly 2 hours to finish. Secondly, and much more importantly, the pizza itself has always tasted a little different to me, but I never had thought about it since it was sooooo good. Well, I convinced my wife to fore go her normal pasta garbage, for a manly (or I suppose in her case womanly), helping of Mid-Western goodness. Who was I to think that such a beloved friend of mine would end up being a caesarion Brutus, stabbing my family in the back. I mean, he was always such a pleasant pizza, granted very unhealthy, but reliable in the taste. I suppose that is why the shock of such a betrayal has hurt my wife and I so very much, because it truly is the person, or should I say pizza, you least expect. You see, as I was contentedly enjoying the company, and yes even the taste of my dear friend, my wife noticed something was a little different. Much like in a murder mystery where the inspector first notices that the woman in the red dress is holding something very sharp and dripping with something red, my wife noticed that this specific pizza was tasting a little different. "NAY" I exclaimed in sheer horror that my wife would accuse my friend of such an offense. "Nay, I say unto thee. My friend has always been honest and loyal. HOW DAREST THOU, accusing such an honest and true pizza. Was it not he that chased away the hunger that I once felt so deeply? Was it not he who dispelled all notions of mediocre '5 Dollar Pizza'? Surely you canst not deny the love it has for thee. Surely..." Well, deny she did, three times if I am not mistaken. For shame...
Well, even though I had a deep love for my friend, I could not deny my wife in pursuing her action, asking the waitress what is wrong with the crust of the pizza.
"Fermentation, it tastes like it doe." Rachel said (imagine a bad British accent). "I'm a bread conisure. I makes me bread, tastes me bread, and loves me bread. And THAT is an impostor." WHAT!?! A proverbial Duck in Bread's clothing!?! Well, the fine hostess explained that the pan was greased in a very fine layer of olive oil, and perchance that was what would be wrong. "MANAGER!" Rachel screamed! "MANAGER, GET ME THE MANAGER!"
Well, the poor manager ran as quickly as if a rabid dog had developed a taste for man blood (or meat) and was on his trail. Meekly, kneeling down, he bravely asked what could possibly be the matter. "Your dough is bewitched!" Rachel bellowed. "Bewitched I say! I tasted fermentation and I say its been BEWITCHED!"
The manager bent his head down, in almost a whisper said well that could be because of our secret ingredient.
Wait a minute, secret ingredient? It has a SECRET ingredient? What possible secrets could my beloved friend withhold from me, his nearest and dearest friend.
"We pour in just a hint of Bud Light..."
...
...
What?!?
What?!?!
WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
How could that be???
How could the pizza withhold such vital information???
No, it can't be...
Why?
Why!?!
WHY!?!
Why did it have to be HIM???
There were so many other pizzas with sub-par ingredients. How could it not tell me? Why would it do this?
I asked the Manager to please tell me it was not so...
This could not be happening. There was just no way that this could be real. A joke, yes he must be telling a joke! HA HA HA!!! What a fine jester he must be. But a joke it was not, and the truth was finally revealed. It was there, all those times I had held it. Bit it. Loved it...
It was evil.
At the core, it was evil...
The Bible teaches that Satan will tempt you with fine things, but THIS, THIS seemed too far.
Well, the sin dealer, aka Manager, did give us the pizza for free, but honestly what man would want it now. The truth was revealed. There was no way to deny it.
So, here I sit, typing out my pain. Is there no real love in the world? It feels as though my faith has been shaken.
As my wife has so aptly but "I feel betrayed. They lied to us. They used vile 'trickeration'."
I suppose all I have left now is my other love, Taco Bell, but the world seems, just a little bit darker...and...a little more lonely.
Some final advice, for those who believe that love still does exist, know who your eating. Know it well, and know it true because sometimes your world can be destroyed. Sometimes, the ones you love the most can attack suddenly striking at you in your nearest and dearest places, your heart (tear).
This is Pirate Dan signing off, Good Luck...
1 comment:
Haha!! I'm sorry, but that's funny. They should put that on the menu though...that it contains Alcohol! I've never eaten there...is the pasta good?
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