11.12.08: Tagine redux plus pizza night out

Another night apart, 'tis the season. She partied with work colleagues, tasting wine and eating pizza while He warmed up the rest of the tagine and put together a salad of carrot, avo and the mulled wine spiced beetroot.

HE SAYS: I was sad to be eating alone but very happy to be having a second crack at the delish tagine. The flavas had intensified and matured somewhat in the 24 hours it had to chill out, mellow and get to know its fridge buddies a little better. The salad was pretty pedestrian (apart from the beetroot) but I dressed it with some chilli infused olive oil to bring it to life, which it did effortlessly.

SHE SAYS: Truly, I would rather have snuggled up to some seconds of the tagine tonite, but my extra portion will wait for a luxurious lunchtime tomorrow. The wine-tasting thingy added some techical terms to my noggin, confirmed how much I hate Chardonnay, and revealed at least one very interesting orange-blossomy German white I would have loved to sip slowly at home among friends.

The subsequent Thames-side stroll to Gourmet Pizza was less rewarding; this appears to be Pizza Exrpess' riverside cousin. (Of a certainty, they share the same dough-ball-and-garlic- margarine supplier.) My mushroom pizza with spicy chorizo add-on was a minor cut above the normal P.E. offering, though just as impossible to pick up without slice failure (toppings sliding off the soggy paper 'crust'). Still, it gets points for the sauce being less sweet and the toppings less stingy. And everyone was quite well-fed and libationed. Not to sound like a party-pooper, b/c the whole evening was nicely arranged...I've just been spending too much time at work or fretting about it to fully enjoy a colleague outing where the food was not outstanding.

29.11.08: Party food

Deadly elderflower martinis

We're lucky in Our friends. One luvvly couple turned 40 this year - one in June, and one this weekend - and they both had the good grace to throw a swell booze-up and invite all their pals. Their last party had Us primed and ready for a smashin' nite out, and in that we were not disappointed.

Sticky wings

A selection of spesh cocktails were shaken and stirred all nite long, while party treats were promptly popped in 'n' out the oven by the brave hired help. (Brave, We say, b/c there was a small mob of greedy folk (Us included) waiting to pounce every time they put on an oven mitt.)

Hot hot hot: mini pizzas

HE SAYS: It may of been considered rude to hover over the servers in the kitchen waiting for hot and tasty treats to emerge from the oven but We did anyway. The mini pizzas were good and fulfilled their role of quenching my alcohol-induced munchies until the next plate emerged. I also enjoyed the wings and especially the 'tater skins, which were light on the load but thankfully heavy on the bacon.

The even hotter potato skins

SHE SAYS: I haven't had a baco-tater skin since my last trip to Fridays, which is beyond my immediate recall, and I rather guiltily enjoyed this pipin' hot reminder. I think the sweet sticky wings were the best, but I only managed to snag one such morsel. Mini pizzas were just what you expect, and I palmed one at every opportunity.

Divine strawberry cream cake

The cake was the real standout here: incredibly fresh strawberries and cream nestled in a light sponge draped with marzipan. It was like the ultimate strawberry shortcake slice, not too sweet ,and perfectly moist. (I had two. That's all I'm admitting to, anyway.) Overall I was a little underfed, but well-libationed, downing rather more than my fair share of elderflower martinis. Va-va-voom!

30.10.08: Satali's Pizza, San Diego, CA

We strolled along the main street of San Diego's overmarketed 'Little Italy' in search of cheap 'n' easy, and found something satisfying in this pizzeria - which was mainly a takeout joint by the looks of all the people lurking in the doorway.

First, a small salad to share: basic leaves, tomatoes, chickpeas, cuke slices and peperoncini accompanied by the obligatory oil and vinegar cruets. A hot pie of pepperoni-mushroom graced the centre as we held our knives and fork poised for dining pleasure...

SHE SAYS: Humble and tasty, with a perfectly toasty thin-medium crust. It was good basic stuff - the sauce not too sweet, not greasy, and in all respects a perfectly decent American pizza. Even and average pie like this blows Britain's sorry excuse of a pizza joint out of the water with savoury gusto.

HE SAYS: Okay, not New York standards, but as She says it blew Pizza Express away (it puzzles me how they stay in business). The crust was firm and pretty thin, and we were able to pick up and eat slices without the toppings sliding off the edges. The local brew I drank in between bites had a satisfying malty, full-bodied taste just right for a pizza nite out.

11.07.08: Out to Pizza Express

Confession: we knew Pizza Express was pretty lame. But we had a coupon! Two-for-one pizza, no less. And it was Friday. So did we heed the cosy call of free comfort food on a crust. Especially attractive was the thought of Her order, the Fiorentina above - spinach with egg-on-top.

Not to be outdone for indulgence, He requested the 'American' - pepperoni, straight up.

And, as reward for our thrift, we shared a Caesar's salad, too. But. But-but-but. What do you think? When the bill arrived, and He proudly brandished our coupon, the waitress smugly informed us that it was 'Monday thru Thursday only'. Oops!

SHE SAYS: One thing I will never understand is how British people have convinced themselves - in great numbers! - that soggy-tissue pizza crust, supersweet 'tomato' sauce, and second-rate toppings like olives that clearly rolled out of a giant, unlabelled can, constitute pizza yumminess. But We love the egg-on-top thing. Spinach pizza met my low expectations, and the pepperoni was passable, too. Crust was gummy except for the edge, and the sauce was a cloying shame, but I was starving, and wiped up the crumbs with my finger. The salad leaves were fresh and crispy enough, but the dressing was pure mayonnaise, and the whole anchovies overpowered everything, with bits everywhere even once I scraped them over to His side. Blech!

HE SAYS: The coupon worked on us I must admit, we have never been a fan of this lame excuse of a pizza joint. It's hard to fuck up pepperoni pizza, but they managed it with ease.
Wet, doughy crust with sweet tomato sauce and pepperoni slices the size of two-pence pieces. Once they've piled on the toppings they put it in the oven for about a nano-second, just enough time for the base to defrost and voila! A sorry mess. I did secretly enjoy all the anchovies in the Caesar salad (how can you not like anchovies?) and also the egg, the highlight of the meal and the only reason we are ever tempted to set foot in the place.

08.05.08: Fridge raiding and frozen pizza

Working late unexpectedly led to a fend-for-yourself scenario. She considered stopping in at M&S, but realised there was plenty enough in the fridge to make such a £6-£8 detour unnecessary. A toasty white bagel spread with baby avo and leftover sundried tomatoes on one side, plus marge, Marmite, and one perfectly soft-boiled egg on the other fit the bill.

Later, He popped into Waitrose on 'is way home and picked up a salami, ricotta, and olive pizza for this unusually diversified dinner. (No, She wasn't jealous. Really.)

HE SAYS: Well, this was my first convenience food experience of the year and it was, yes, disappointing. The double zero flour boasted in the ingredients didn't help elevate the crust's brewer's droop, flaccid and lifeless; no amount of extra minutes added to the recommended cooking time helped. The salami was nice and the olives added a little something but I was left with a feeling of ennui after the last mouthful. Apparently this pizza won an award in some chilled pizza contest, the cheek of it.

SHE SAYS: Much more satisfying than the packaged sandwich and salad scenario I was contemplating on the bus. Something about a boiled egg on Marmitey toast after a thoroughly disgusting day is just naturally, deeply soothing. The avo-spread half was just as tasty in its own way, with the salty tang of the sundried tomatoes adding just enough flavour. Then too, the satisfaction of a good improv added its own seasoning, if you know what I mean.