Saturday was Kath's birthday and the original plan was to go to Tea House but then she wanted to go to Boludo, an Argentine pizza and empanada place, instead. Hence the picture of Che Guevara on the wall near the entrance. Little did we know that Boludo translates to...
Or I didn't know. Kath says she knew. But OK.
We got there and the place was ttiinnyy. The three six tops were occupied and there were some bar seats along a way-too-thin-to-be-usable bar. We initially got a two top wedged between the entrance, the bathroom and kitchen doors, and a disused table with a chair on it. Then a two top by the buss station got, uh, bussed, so we moved over there after ordering a pepperoni (I wanted to try something a little more adventurous but Kath wanted something a little more classic) and a couple drinks - she got basil pineapple and I got blackberry hibiscus.
The England / Norway game was on super loud and there were Argentina flags hung up everywhere and I'm sure the place would be off the hook later during the Argentina / Switzerland game, which I tried watching at home but switched to just checking every fifteen twenty minutes or so because that shit went into triple overtime - Sorry, it's futbol, it's called extra time. And that shit aint sudden death, either. You get an extra period, you get the whole extra period. I think that was a two and a half hour game.
NOBODY'S HERE FOR THE WORLD CUP, CHARLIE! HOW WAS THE PIZZA!?
Oh, well, se-
AND, BEE TEE DUBS, PIZZA IS NOT A SANDWICH!
Yeah, I know, I ju-
SHOW US THE PIZZA, CHARLIE!
OK.
WHAT'S THAT WHITE SHIT ALL OVER THE CRUST!?!?!?
Will you stop. fucking. yelling at me? That is cheese. They don't tell you what kind.
I have only one note: I wished they would have let that pizza sit for five minutes after taking it out of the oven so the cheese could set. But for as melty and stretchy as the cheese was, it wasn't molten, it didn't burn my mouth.
The pizza "sauce" as it were, was just san marzano tomatoes, if we're to believe the menu, which lists the pepperoni simply as
fresh mozzarella, san marzano
... and not a damned thing else. Not even that white fungus-ass fur cheese on the crust gets a mention, so I literally can't tell you what it is. Could be parmigiano-reggiano. I don't think it was salty enough to be pecorino-romano. I think Kafe Nasty said what it was but kind of trailed off.
I don't think I've ever been asked to rank pizzas before; I don't know if I've ever had a "best pizza I've ever had". I have favorites. I have ones I'd go out of my way for. But to rank one as the best?
I'd say this one is a contender for the best, it's just my one note that holds it back from getting there. Oh and maybe the crust could have been firmer; this was a floppy pie. But the flavors were on point, though I still kind of doubt that the sauce is just san marzano tomatoes with no oregano or thyme or garlic or salt & pepper.
That pie was US$22, which was fair, I think. I think I can tell you to give them your money.
When we got to our last slices, I ordered us some empanadas to go. She wanted jamón y queso and I got the Messi, which was just more pepperoni and cheese.
fried, pepperoni, mozzarella and reggianito cheese, san marzano and spices
I mean, that just means "pepperoni and cheese". We ate those when we got home and were full for the rest of the night. Not overly full, just regular full.
For a pizza, two empanadas, and two drinks, I - and Kath loves when I said this, the kind of thing that she still doesn't let me live down - I paid fifty dollars for this meal and I'm OK with it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, today is Bastille Day and I want to watch France beat Spain. The game is just about to start.
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