Eating out

This evening we went to an Italian restaurant, to celebrate my wife's birthday. We've been to this restaurant several times before and always enjoyed it, but I made the mistake of reading online reviews today.

Meeting up in Osaka

Because I know absolutely nobody in Osaka, I went on to meetup.com and looked there for people, and arranged to have dinner at a Canadian pizza restaurant north of the main station. Because I enjoy partaking of local customs, and when in Osaka, what could be more culturally appropriate than Canadian pizza?

Pizza on Wyndham Street

I had further pain and suffering this morning; all last night the cat was doing circuit training: jumping off the bookshelves onto the bed, jumping onto the headboard, jumping off onto our heads, kicking jewellery off the bedside table, again and again until she'd reached some spurious fitness goal.

On top of my sleep-deprived zombification, I've picked up a great big bruise on my shin, in a perfect position for when I cross my legs in the fey way  I'm given to do so, at which point my legs clang together and I give a little yelp of pain.  I suppose it gives the office something to laugh at.

Year of Eating Differently (121): Pizza Express, Greek Street

So, 120 meals later we're back at Pizza Express, and it's a mushroom pizza again (this time on a Romana base, which is slightly wider and flatter - does the apparent lack of actual increased volume really justify the £1 surcharge?). The Greek Street version of Pizza Express is much darker than Dean Street, with more mirrors, and all the waitresses are pretty identical. Or at least I had to assist my co-diner, who couldn't distinguish the uber-waitress (tall, black framed glasses) from the poor benighted woman responsible for bringing out the food (average height, clear framed glasses). Perhaps the irony of all this is that the whole thing is chopped out in a cookie-cutter these days, so perhaps the only distinguishing features are the waitresses. Who all look the same. Although I don't remember them looking anything like the service staff at Dean Street. But that was so very, very long ago...

Year of Eating Differently (111): Ristorante Cappucetto, Moor Street

Took an American lady to Ed's diner to cheer her up, on the assumption that she was homesick for a diner.
Realised I'd offended her because they don't have places like Ed's in N'Awlins, so went down the street to this little restaurant, which was advertising a 5.50 lunch deal.
For that much (and indeed for anything up to twice the price) the pizza was unexpectedly good - very thin, very tasty. Downside was that the place was almost empty, the chilli grinder was made of transparent plastic and squeaked when used, and the waiter was ever-so-slightly terrifying. Oh, and the knives were Spanish 'Albacete' knives, which meant they look like the kind of things small people eat steaks with, or Rambo peels fruit with. Either way, slightly over the top for a defenceless pizza. Demonstrated my level of ignorance over Deleuze, made a few unguarded comments about the US Army, but avoided being slashed with a knife, so maybe I still have some charm and wit about me. (A few scary moments with a knife close to my face, but those were quite forgivable in the circumstances...)

Year of Eating Differently (88): Moak, Soho Square

This used to be a Subway until a while ago. I had an unpleasant time there, as documented, but then it shut. For about six months it then remained closed, with the mysterious sight of a bright yellow Cinquecento viewable through the window, along with a load of building supplies.
Just this week it reopened as Moak, a pasta/pizza joint. There are four tables crammed into one corner of the shop, a couple of pizza ovens, a counter for fruit smoothies - all really rather polished. Not sure if these are real Italians or faux ones, but they call me signor and not signorita and then gave me a slice of hot pizza as fast as was necessary.
Pizza was good (although it punched below its weight, if you compare flavour to taste), but it had an underlying flavour of fishiness. I'm not sure what that can have been, because aside from anchovies (which weren't on it) there's not many forms of piscine life that have made their way on top of a pizza. Please don't write to me and tell me about the eel pizza you enjoyed as a small child, by the way. Anyhow, glad to see something rising from the ashes of a previous establishment.

Year of Eating Differently (1): Pizza Express, Dean Street

Not much to say here. Pizza Express is fast becoming the McDonalds of quality pizza - you know what to expect, and it's always pretty much the same.
Mushroom pizza - ok, but only really enough food to give me an appetite for a pizza. Then again, I had been out until 4am that morning on a Guinness/grappa/white wine/cocktail binge, so I wasn't really feeling it.
However, specific to Dean Street - I wouldn't recommend eating at the tables at the back when it's raining. Two of us got dripped on, and the waitress didn't offer any kind of discount for needing an umbrella indoors.