Text 34095, 58 rader
Skriven 2015-12-08 07:51:40 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: pizza in Portland 637
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Mississippi's in Portland OR - takeout pizzas. Spending a week
in a neo-hippie almost-commune household in the Kremlin on
the Willamette made me fear that I'd be eating a lot of 
tasteless vegan food, but as it turns out a Tanzanian family
has moved in, with a shift in the foodographic toward my end
of the spectrum. In fact, shortly before I arrived they had
put the oven out of commission by broiling steaks in it
without putting down a dripping tray, so the house smelled
tantalizingly of burned beef fat. Anyhow, we ate a lot of
prepared food, mostly from the local organic grocery; this
was only restaurant stuff I got, good for my pocketbook at
least. (This was the place where the mistress of the house
deftly sidestepped my every effort at improving the culinary
life of the community.)

This appears to be a please-all please-some sort of place, 
and as there were about a dozen people of diverse food 
requirements under the roof, the order went out for one 
vegan, one vegetarian, and one real.

The first was a ?whole-grain crust topped with soy cheese, 
black olives, sliced Roma tomatoes, artichoke hearts, and 
some chiffonaded spinach. No discernible seasoning - neither
garlic nor basil nor oregano. This would have been a lot
better with all of those three in abundance and maybe an
onion or two, but I suspect that it had been made Hindu
or Hare Krishna friendly. This was possibly the worst
pizza-like substance I've ever eaten: the artificial 
cheese had the texture of toothpaste and less flavor,
coating the top palate with an unpleasant pond scum. The
vegetables, individually of decent quality, seemed to
cancel each other out. I got an interestingly sour bite
when I hit a pickled artichoke leaf, but that's about it.
This is probably the first food I've publicly given a
letter grade of F to.

The"margarita" was almost classic - mozz, sliced Roma, and 
basil, a little underdone to keep the cheese snow white;
it was also suspiciously tasteless and rates perhaps a C.

Thank goodness for the standard sausage pizza, fragrant
and unabashedly politically incorrect, the sausage actually 
made of pork and pretty good though not superabundant. I
savored this as well I might; it was the only red meat 
I actually ate all week. Normally, this would rate a B-
or so, suffering as the others did from underseasoning,
but in context, A minus.

Our counterculture friends, being good of nature, accepted 
these culinary gifts in the spirit in which they were offered.
Except for the vegan one, of which half hung around for 
almost the whole time I was there, getting drier and more
unappetizing until on my last full day someone decided that
waste not want not, and as it was after composting season,
bravely downed it thinking no doubt of the starving children
in whatever country it is fashionable to think of these days.
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