the range

I'll be in Maryland from Jan. 1st-Jan. 9th. There may be a couple of days tripping up to NYC. My cell phone situation is still unresolved, so email is still the best way to get a hold of me for the time being.

the day is mine!

the day's consumption

cupcakes: 3
cookies: 7
oranges: 2
peanut butter & jam sandwiches: 1
bananas: 1
pizzas: 1 + 2 slices
strawberry—rhubarb pie: 1 slice

things i have done in recent history

1. not scored goals and been generally pissed off about my quality of play on the soccer pitch (or rink, really... as the "field" tends to be walled in with curved corners). i seem to curse at myself very loudly when i miss a chance to score. apologies to small children and their parental units.
2. thoroughly enjoyed yelling at marty while he "blows" his "horn" in public.

3. let my crush on ellen page grow and grow.

4. eaten my weight in cooooookies!

5. mentally prepared myself for a week of pizza consumption (this was not difficult). monday: homemade. wednesday: ken's. thursday: scholls...?

another 8tracks

unplugged, unencumbered

the cellular telephone is without a doubt one of the most useful and annoying pieces of technology ever invented. sometimes it can seem pretty much indispensable. and it saves you from the onerous task of actually planning ahead. i can't tell you how many times my high-end string-and-can dealybopper has saved dinner gatherings, movie outings, or acted as a defense against loneliness for me. take for instance this sunday: i was supposed to meet up with robyn and her crew to watch the 'skins-eagles game a claudia's. i showed up a few minutes early, waited around outside for them, and when they didn't appear by kickoff, i plunked myself down at a table and ordered up some biscuits and bacon (to console myself with for what i was sure would be a demoralizing spectacle of botched play-calling, fumbled snaps, and dropped passes). it turns out robyn's philly-oriented contingent did arrive and ended up sitting in the room adjacent. two of them even played on the poker machines right behind where i was sitting. but neither of us saw each other. i could've eaten my biscuits and bacon in good company, but instead i watched the 'skins lose, in what turned out to be a fairly enjoyable game to watch, 27-24. it's just one instance in which a cell phone would've allowed the experience to be more enjoyable.

that said, life without the cell phone, it turns out, is pretty nice. i don't have to worry about being available at every waking moment, as has become the expectation when you have a cell phone; there are no phantom ringing neuroses; i'm less concerned about giving myself brain cancer; i don't have to carry around one extra clunky thing or losing an expensive piece of electronics; i don't have awkward buzzing emanating from my pants at inopportune moments.

still, it's been a week without it. sometimes i wonder if i'm missing out on stuff because i can't check my text messages. i will try and head over to target today to purchase a replacement charger. but maybe now that i've gotten kind of used to being without it, and realized how nothing terrible has come of it, i'll have the psychological wherewithal to keep it off most of the time.

Updated: i have been to target and their universal charger for the LG phone is not compatible with my LG phone. of the three different plugs available with the charger not one of them fits the jack on my phone. it makes me wonder exactly what universe the charger is from...

Ready... FIGHT!

This weekend I attacked SF pizza this weekend with the ferocity of a ferocious, wild, angry, hungry, and furry manimal. The match-up: Delfina Vs. Tony's Pizza Napoletana.

At both I tried their margherita and a house specialty.


The Delfina margherita (above; stock images from a past visit in the spring is due to poor lighting at night in their outdoor seating) easily came out on top, with a perfectly baked crust (I realize the photo shows otherwise, but the charring was fantastic this time around)—crisp, yet pliant with the crackly edge protecting soft, spongy innards—sweet and tang-tastic sauce, and a drizzle of fragrant olive oil.





Tony's margherita was good, but the sauce lacked the flavorful punch of Delfina's and the cheese was not entirely melted. It did benefit from the added smokiness added by the wood-burning oven. Extra kudos to Tony's for being open for lunch, which is a meal most of the better pizzerias in SF thumb their noses at.




I also tried the clam pie at Delfina and Tony's Cal Italia (Asiago, Mozzarella, Imported Italian Gorgonzola, Sweet Fig preserve from Croatia, Prosciutto di Parma, Parmigiano, Balsamic). Both were delicious. The Cal Italia is baked in a domed, gas oven, and uses a different flour (higher gluten content, it seemed, based on the tougher, more chewy consistency) than their margherita. It was overwhelmed by the sweet fig preserves to some degree, which was heavy-handedly dolloped into the center of each slice, with a small piece of prosciutto and a couple shavings of the parmigiano stuck on top. The gorgonzola was used sparingly and counterbalanced the sweet figs with its bitterness. It was pretty delicious, but maybe too rich and I had a hard time getting through my third slice.

Delfina's clam pie (unfortunately I have no photo documentation) was fantastic, with toothsome shelled clams scattered about on a sea of spiced tomato sauce. All underscored by a salty pecorino. Boffo.




I also tried a slice from Arnell's Pizza, which would give most NYC corner slice establishments a run for their money. A thin, crisp crust, topped with your standard greasy, cheesy fair. A good sauce-to-cheese ratio. And served up by a gentleman with a slightly toothless grin.

Please also do drop by the Bi-Rite Creamery after—or before!—hitting up Delfina. I sampled their salted caramel and malted vanilla. A+ in my book. I also had the pleasure of tasting Humphry Slocombe's off-kilter ice cream flavors: secret breakfast (bourbon and cornflakes), peanut butter curry, blue bottle coffee, and balsamic caramel.

Victory for the forces of good!

the decemberists

colin meloy sounds like what i imagine ira glass would sing like if he
could or would sing.