So, as it turns out, there’s this thing on television today called the Superbowl that a lot of people are going to be watching. The rest of the people will be watching the Puppy Bowl. Which means it will probably be a little silly to have a live show today so I’m not gonna.
This kid’s eyes are eating my soul.
Listen please. Don’t be too sad. I’ll be back next week with Valentine’s Day-themed trivia, drinking games and PIZZA. All at 9 pm ET at http://bit.ly/AngelaLive
I know. I feel the same way.
Until then, I leave you with a haiku of a #pizzalist pizza I had Friday morning. You see, Thursday night I went to bed hungry. So by the time I roused myself from the comforts of my bed late-ish Friday morning, I was ready to eat anything that moved. I thought, “What better way to cure these ills than a Mac and Cheese pizza from Hell’s Kitchen pizza (917-563-3040 | 691 10th Ave, New York, NY)! In fact, I will even go crazy and add bacon all up in that mix!”
I like the picture, but it seems like the physics don’t work for wherever his hands are to be balancing a pizza of that size. Just sayin’.
It arrived swiftly (this tends to happen when you order the very second they open for business) and although the presentation was pleasing, well, you’ll see…
I wake ravenous
Mac and cheese and bacon, yes!
Oh, no bacon. Oh.
I’ve killed men for less.
This was my first experience with a mac and cheese pizza and let me tell you, I had high hopes. I think it would have been much more delicious if they hadn’t melted Kraft American slices over top of the whole thing and OH YEAH IF THERE HAD BEEN BACON. Really, would’ve sent it over the edge. Theoretically. At least in my tongue’s imagination*.
As it is- and this is really difficult for me to admit- I ordered that entire pizza for myself and only ate one and a half slices.
You never leave a slice of pizza behind! It’s practically sacrilegious!
It was far too rich and processed-cheesey to consume, but I haven’t given up all hope on mac and cheese pizza in general. Nor have I given up hope on Hell’s Kitchen Pizza. I didn’t even complain about the bacon but “Sammy” was kind enough to call me and apologize and let me know he’d “take care of” me next time. Thanks, Sammy. I’ll have the truffle pizza with Fabrege eggs.
*Yes, my tongue’s imagination. All my senses have their own imaginations. My ears think they’re pirates!**
**I feel like these portions of my posts are going to be used against me in a court of law some day…