Posted by: lisetta | September 5, 2008

Dissatisfaction

We ran into my colleague John tonight at Dock Street. He stopped by our table and mentioned that he knows the owners, Rosemary from Sicily and her husband the pizza cook. Oh great, I said, asking John to tell Rosemary that they need to cook better pizzas. He said he loved their pizzas, as did my date, and I realized that no matter how intently I’d wield my woo there’d be nothing good to come of it. Why even try to change the way someone feels? We’re all different. Pazienza!

You can, however, attempt, in vain, to fight the excess estrogen cursing through your body and instead focus on applying a basic principle of positive psychology: gratitude. Thankful to be sitting at the table again with a fabulous photographer. Note that the pizzas look good … just like the pararchidendrum pruinosum:

Thankful to be sitting at the table with an articulate man who can at least muster a smile, albeit one of disbelief, while listening to my disaffected foodie rant:

why are we waiting such a ridiculously long time for our pizzas to arrive? oops! did i just use the adverb ‘ridiculously’ to our fabulously cute and friendly waitress, who brought our pizzas over 30 seconds later? why the hell did they put minced garlic on my pizza but not mention it on the menu? why didn’t the lovely waitress honor my explicit request that there be NO garlic on my pizza? what the f@^# is wrong with the americans anyway? real italian food is not riddled with copious amounts of bitter garlic…by the way, they need to cook this crust longer. what’s worse than soggy pizza crust? the obvious trick is to not load the pizza with uncooked vegetables, which contain lots of water. ugh. aren’t they the ones who are supposed to be the pizzamaking experts? no, i honestly don’t think this pizza is any good at all … and i can give you ten more reasons why, but fear that i’ve already demonstrated my utter lunacy. wait. did i taste that sprig of rosemary on the siciliano? that was good. and i can objectively observe that the ingredients are fresh. i guess that could be good … if they only knew how to assemble.

Thankful that I even have the discretionary $18 I’ve just wasted on terrible food. Oh, wait: the Boylan cream soda was enjoyable.

The place is far too noisy for anyone to have a civilized conversation. The sound system is awful. They should hire Stuart’s company to come out and fix it. Why can’t I be ‘normal’ like my neighbors and simply enjoy this place for what it is? Oh shit; I wish I could step out of my mind for a moment. Why does this seem to happen to so many of us in academia? And why do I keep disagreeing with just about every word my date says when I’m well aware that’s the fast track to a disconnect? I’ve lost all contact with objective reality. Help! 

Uh…who am I kidding here? There is absolutely nothing any of us mere mortals can do to counter the effects of hormonal changes. My new and improved strategy for dealing with excess estrogen will be to not accept any dates for a few days, and pray for the progesterone boost to arrive soon. LOL. Positivity is one of my core signature strengths, after all. How would you feel if what comes most naturally disappeared despite your desires?

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Responses

  1. Ok. So, am I to understand that if my body were filled to the brim with estrogen I would not have enjoyed these two pizzas? I loved them! Most Americans don’t eat pizza this good! ((And I do have at least trace amounts of follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) for which should count for something. And why do men have something called follicle-stimulating hormone in their otherwise testosterone-filled brains and bodies? Ok, I do realize it was probably first discovered in the female population, properly named for function and then secondarily discovered within the male species. But this discussion would be more appropriate for a non-food blog.)) But I loved both pizzas! As with date No. 1, each ordered a pizza and sampled from the other. I ordered the Sicilian, authentic, thin crust, black olives, capers, pine nuts, roasted garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, mozzarella, tomato sauce and fresh basil. I loved the sauce! With the combo of the olives and capers it was a bit salty, but that was to be expected. I asked for freshly ground pepper, but they only had a shaker of ground to offer. Fresh ground pepper would be a suggestion I would give to Dock Street Brewery or any other restaurant that is working to be something better than a greasy spoon diner tucked away off lonely, dark Midwestern on ramps on I-35. My pre-dinner beer was sensational. Bitter hops. Cold. Slightly caramelized tastes. Yummy! But I did enjoy this pizza. I was hungry too! I would have liked the crust done a bit longer, but it wasn’t bad. My hormone-riddled date, heiress of the food blog ordered the Vegetarian, a blend of artichokes, mushrooms, spinach, sun dried tomatoes, onions, peppers, mozzarella, herbs, and crème fraiche. And yes, they DID put garlic on this pizza, which was not listed in the description. I found this mildly amusing since she discovered the inclusion of the garlic shortly after a rant from her about how Americans find it necessary to put garlic on everything. I did listen and gently smile. Ok, so my slight amusement was a little from the sadistic side of my brain. But since it was our second date, I didn’t want her to know that this brought a little chuckle to my head. I tasted the pizza, agreed with her that there was indeed garlic on the pizza, an ingredient not listed on the menu. I do agree that the Vegetarian could have used a little bit more time in the oven. Perhaps we should have requested our “crust desires” to our cute, Ellen Page-resembling waitress, much like I do when I order my Rib-Eye medium rare. I am sure that Ellen would have done her best to provide us with the best crust experience that she could have mustered. The Vegetarian was a little on the soggy side secondary to the pile of veggies on it. The mushrooms were boring. I would have preferred a nicely sautéed Morale or Shitake. But I will be back to eat more pizza from Dock Street Brewery and look forward to sampling more of their great tasting beers. If you go, try the Trio fries! Yum!! I am glad that they chose to open their brewery to the location they did and will support them! I hope that this move will promote a positive growth to the neighborhood and encourage other businesses to venture into slightly questionable areas of the city! I did enjoy the evening talking life, music, politics and food with a well-thought, perceptive person. I appreciate her appreciation to the details of life. I gratefully hang onto my Y chromosome and my love of roasted garlic. Until another pizza, the photographer guy.

  2. He’s too kind …the hormones had no affect on my opinion of the bad pizza – just on my inability to prevent contention or filter my thoughts! LOL. It IS pretty funny (in retrospect) that I had to eat garlic right after complaining about it! 🙂

    Let it be said that my dates typically enjoy watching me get pleasure from food. When it’s really good, as at Le Virtu, or Matyson, or L’Oca, I lose the ability to speak. It’s wonderful.

    Speaking of speaking, unless I’ve become my mother, the “hormone riddled heiress of the blog” cannot exist. Come to think of it, let’s go with a twisted revisionist view, where the nonexistent heiress rants uncontrollably and Lisetta loves unconditionally.

  3. What is there left to say to such passion?

  4. Ha ha! Uuuuh ,… how about, “Why don’t you people direct it towards something meaningful, like getting all the Philadelphians to vote in November?” How else are we going to manage the Pennsyltucky effect?! The end is near! The end is near! God help us all.

  5. ohmigod– you ARE chicco’s pyschic italian food twin.

  6. It’s pretty scary, isn’t it?! And funny, too. I’ve got millions of psychic food twins … the only problem is that they’re all living over there in Italy! When are you guys gathering the tribe for your dinner party right here in Philly?


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