When it comes right down to it...

There are a whole bunch of wonderful foods out there, and I enjoy eating almost all of them. I have particularly fond memories of a seared foie gras here or a perfect pumpkin soup there, or a certain summer day in Beaune with a pear, a baguette, and a chunk of cheese (and a bottle of burgundy, of course). I can remember, with precision, dishes that I had at the French Laundry or Chez Panisse many years ago.

But, there is nothing that can satisfy me just about any place, any time of day, and as often as once a day for a really long time, as pizza. Now, it can't be cardboard Domino's junk. That doesn't count. But most towns have a few (or more) decent pizza parlors that can put together a pretty tasty pizza. It doesn't have to be breathtaking in its originality, nor perfectly reflect the fruits of the land when properly cared for, nor does it have to be entirely made from fresh, seasonal produce. Pizza offers a certain leniency that few other foods do. Too heavy on the salt? It's why God created beer. A little too bland? Sprinkle on some red chili flakes and dried oregano, and you have a John Phillips Sousa experience going on in your mouth.

We have several local places that we like. LoCoco, Porky's Pizza Palace in San Leandro, Paysano's in Castro Valley, Fellini in Berkeley, Zachary's in Berkeley and Oakland (this one is the disputed one. I really like them. Melanie only likes a couple of their specialties). But, the problem with these places is that none of them deliver.

You see, when I am particularly in the mood for pizza, it is usually because I am too tired to cook (often not because I don't want to cook, but because to do so means a trip to the grocery store first, and that is what I dread when I am exhausted). So, we want our pizza brought to us. And for that, Oakland's Leaning Tower of Pizza is the place to go. We have not actually been there for many years. I hear that it is now a really pleasant place, sort of a neighborhood hangout with good microbrews and all that. It wasn't when we went. It was clean and nicely decorated, but the only other people in there were the cooks, the cashier, and the brief respites the delivery drivers got when they outpaced the kitchen.

Maybe one of these days we will go in and have a pizza there. Meanwhile, they say 40 minutes, generally get it here in 30, and it is always tasty, and that is good enough for me.

I bet that one of my readers is astute enough to guess what I will be eating for breakfast tomorrow, too.