Weds 8th September
So I finally got to log off, put on the “out of office” and change my voicemail in readiness for my well needed holiday to Italy. And at 5pm I was on the road to Liverpool John Lennon airport, or more specifically, the Holiday Inn Express hotel, as i'm not flying til 6.40am tomorrow.
On arrival at the hotel it soon became apparent that this was not the same standard as the Holiday Inn Express that I had stayed in at Stansted airport earlier in the year. There only seemed to be 2 staff working, alternating between checking people in, taking food orders, making the food, driving guests to the airport and serving drinks. Did I say “serving drinks”? Well, what drinks there were left to serve. From an already spartan bar, bereft of much choice to begin with, we were also without the draught Carlsberg, Guinness or San Miguel. A Bulmers pear cider then please.
For dinner in the hotel restaurant (read “big lounge”) I had the best frozen lasagne I have had since my days at school. Following dinner, and a glass of wine later I decided it was probably best to retire. It was as though I had been transported onto the set of One Flew over The Cuckoos Nest. With so much staring in my direction I had to go to the gents twice just to make sure that I didnt have a “stare here” post it note stuck to my head.
Oh well, an early night will do me good. I am flying at 6.40am so need to be up nice and early, especially so I can take advantage of the legendary complimentary breakfast offered by Holiday Inn Express. On a tight budget like mine, every penny counts folks.
Night!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
il pizza perfecto
The perfect pizza. Is there such a thing? It's a search that I am more than happy to undertake. No matter how long it takes me or how many pizzas I have to try.
That said, writing a post about food probably isn’t a good idea on a full stomach. More so when the stomach is full of food from a completely different continent. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Asian food. But it's hardly prepping my culinary taste buds in readiness for the "perfect pizza" search.
Unless you are my mate, and you know who you are Squire, pizza is a food that you get introduced to at an early age. A simple, cheap frozen meal that can be thrown in the oven and eaten stood up with one foot out the door for a night on the beer. In the 80's there was "posh" frozen pizza in the form of French Bread pizzas. And later still, I graduated to pizzas from an actual pizza shop, though not yet quite a "pizzeria".
It wasn’t until I went to a real Italian restaurant that I discovered what pizzas were actually meant to taste like. And what a discovery. Simple, flavour packed pizzas such as the Margarita, created in Italy in honour of Queen Margherita and in the tricolour of the Italian flag. A layer of red tomato sauce, white balls of fluffy buffalo mozzarella and sprigs of basil. And pronto! A classic has been invented.
So now, having been to Italian restaurants all over the world, tasted their finest thin crust pizzas, their fluffy Italian Cornish pasties, or to give them their actual name, Calzones, its time to go to where it all started. Napoli.
Naples is the home and birthplace of pizza and this is where I'm headed. I will also be doing a lot of sightseeing, such as the Amalfi coast and maybe Capri, but in between, a man needs sustenance.
And this is where the pizzas come in.
That said, writing a post about food probably isn’t a good idea on a full stomach. More so when the stomach is full of food from a completely different continent. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Asian food. But it's hardly prepping my culinary taste buds in readiness for the "perfect pizza" search.
Unless you are my mate, and you know who you are Squire, pizza is a food that you get introduced to at an early age. A simple, cheap frozen meal that can be thrown in the oven and eaten stood up with one foot out the door for a night on the beer. In the 80's there was "posh" frozen pizza in the form of French Bread pizzas. And later still, I graduated to pizzas from an actual pizza shop, though not yet quite a "pizzeria".
It wasn’t until I went to a real Italian restaurant that I discovered what pizzas were actually meant to taste like. And what a discovery. Simple, flavour packed pizzas such as the Margarita, created in Italy in honour of Queen Margherita and in the tricolour of the Italian flag. A layer of red tomato sauce, white balls of fluffy buffalo mozzarella and sprigs of basil. And pronto! A classic has been invented.
So now, having been to Italian restaurants all over the world, tasted their finest thin crust pizzas, their fluffy Italian Cornish pasties, or to give them their actual name, Calzones, its time to go to where it all started. Napoli.
Naples is the home and birthplace of pizza and this is where I'm headed. I will also be doing a lot of sightseeing, such as the Amalfi coast and maybe Capri, but in between, a man needs sustenance.
And this is where the pizzas come in.
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