I’m sitting on my bed in San Diego, nursing a sneezy cold and an ice cold Saporro (22-oz. can? Geez, Japan). Life could be worse. I just returned from babysitting my boss’s two lovely children, where I had my first SD take-out pizza. It was white pizza with caramelized onions, and it was surprisingly excellent. My pizza snobbery, borne out of my upbringing in the New York metropolitan area, is something I am trying to shake, but it is too difficult and too hopeless a task.
My friend Kristina sent me a link to a blog entry on pizza cognition theory. The theory asserts that the first foodstuff a child eats that is labeled “pizza” becomes the point of comparison for all other things claiming the same label, and that the initial exposure tends to shape the preference. Indeed, tastes can change over the life course, like when someone realizes the Domino’s pizza of their youth is in no way the best. But there does seem to be a bit of loyalty or at least acknowledgment of prior loyalty to foods loved early in life.
Tonight, I’ve also had a couple pieces of dark chocolate with sea salt for good measure/antioxidants. I bought it at my first time in a Cost Plus World Market, and it has proven to be a not-bad specimen of salted, 64% cacao. The presence of antioxidants in dark chocolate is something I oft remind myself as a way o validating the amount I eat. I’m sort of beyond the point of needing validation. The other day, I bought this “ChocoPod” at Perk, the UCSD coffee shop. (I also bought an iced coffee that I spilled half of before I left the counter, but let’s not get into it.) The pod was made by Chuao Chocolatier, a San Diego based chocolate company and was full of popping candy, chipotles, and salt. A little much for me but holy moly was it a roller coaster of flavors and sensations. The pods are also the perfect size, allowing about four to five small bites of melt-in-your-mouth pleasure that allow for an afternoon chocolate fix with just enough indulgence.
Back to the booze. This Sapporo is kind of creamy. I feel like I’ve rarely heard beer described as creamy by people who know anything about the stuff, but the adjective often comes to mind when sucking back the suds. Who knows. Actually, I just G-chatted my friend Connor about whether he has ever described beer as creamy himself or heard it described elsewhere as such, and he has. So much for originality. Also, I just noticed that this Imported Premium can of Sapporo is certainly imported. From Ontario, Canada. So much for authenticity.
Anyway, this blog is an outlet for my food musings. I have wanted such an outlet for a long while, and I have finally encouraged myself to carve one out on the Internet. Those who have encountered me know that food is one of my four or five default conversation topics, with the others being my family, my Italian heritage, the latest artist I’m listening to on repeat (most likely someone from Iceland or Oakland), and Chevy El Caminos.