Jimmy John's?!?! No!

You know when your body is craving greasy food? Perhaps after a long night of imbibing? While those nights are now numbered (although I do pour a very hefty glass of wine), I find that the recovery process is much more excruciating than it used to be. Oh thirties…you are just around the corner and I can hear you coming.

In college, Pizza Shuttle was key. My roomie and I would meet in the living room, get out a phone and a checkbook (we used checks to pay rent, utilities, and support our pizza habit), and place the order without having to say more than three words to each other. It was like clockwork; thirty minutes later, the “two-fer” was our magic elixir.

Pizza Shuttle. Lawrence, KS.

Post-vegan, I settled for McDonald’s french fries to set me straight. Let’s be honest, if you want french fries, Mickey D’s is the place to go. They are perfectly crisp with the correct ratio of crunchy outer shell to soft mushy inside. And saltiness? Nailed it. Life was good until I got some terrible news. The fries I had been consuming were not vegetarian! Gasp! They are coated in some kind of meat seasoning. Immediately, dreams were shattered and they were off the list of approved foods.

I hate to say it, but it happened again. I recently became obsessed with Jimmy John’s veggie sandwich (minus the cheese & mayo). As I have mentioned before, I have a tendency to get hooked on things and take them to the extreme. In the past 2 weeks, I have consumed this sandwich an estimated 7-10 times (plus or minus 3). I received a very unfortunate email from Jimmy John’s this afternoon. Now my only option is the “Unwich” – lettuce wrapped in lettuce. What a travesty.  

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The Real Pizza Chronicle

I have a pizza problem. A mere 20 days into the new program, I threw a complete tantrum and decided I could not go one more day without eating pizza. 20 days...not even 3 weeks. What is my deal? I don't feel like most people are this obsessed with pizza (unless you're 7 years old), so it made me wonder where the obsession came from. 

My family ate typical American food growing up (with Cajun flair thanks to Mom's southern roots). We certainly ate our fair share of pizza, but nothing extreme. Mom would buy the Chef Boyardee pizza kits from the grocery store. They came with pizza sauce in a tin can, a packet of grated cheese, and a crust mix (just add water...and maybe oil). I can still remember the smell of the crust rising as it sat on the stove in the orange plastic bowl, and the slightly metallic taste of the pizza sauce as I licked the inside of the can after its contents had been emptied onto the waiting crust. Such an amazing meal, and always what I requested for my birthday dinners.

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With such a large family, eating out was a rare occurrence, as was pizza carryout. I remember one of the best things that happened in first grade, was when my teacher told me about the Pizza Hut Book-It program. Every time you read a book, you got a star sticker to put on your Book-It button. When the button was filled with stickers, you could redeem it at Pizza Hut for your very own personal pan pizza (toppings of your choice). I never felt more special than when I walked up to the counter (that was several inches taller than me), stretched up to show my button, and said, "Cheese, please!" As I walked out of there carrying my kid-sized pizza box, I had such a feeling of accomplishment. I had earned this pizza.

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While I loved our homemade pizza, it showed up somewhat sporadically on my dinner plate at home. I never knew when it was coming, or when it would appear again. I wanted something more concrete in terms of the pizza eating schedule at my house. I was jealous of my friends whose families had instituted Pizza Fridays. Each week, I hoped and prayed they would invite me over to play on Friday after school. And even better, hoped for the extended invitation to stay for dinner if things had gone well up to that point. Not to say my friendships were based solely on whether someone's family had Pizza Friday, but it did tip the scale in a few cases.

  

And with each one of my close friendships through the years, I associate a certain pizza parlor and type of pizza:

Anne - Minsky's, Italian sausage, black olive

Mary & Jenna - Minsky's, Italian sausage, pepperoni, peppercorn ranch

Katie - Pizza Shuttle, black olive, cream cheese, pepperoni

I'll even add Jason to the list - Little Caesar's, pepperoni

And that brings us to current day. I have a new vegan pizza to add to the list from Waldo Pizza. After a 20 day hiatus, this was an excellent way to reenter the world of pizza. The crust was fluffy and delicious, there were lots of veggies, and the "cheese" was...not as bad as I thought it would be. Next up on the pizza agenda will be making my own. Stay tuned for details.

Pizza Love Part II

Today's pizza incident turned out to be the most tempting thus far. Rather than an empty pizza box in the trash can, I had to sit through a working team lunch catered by Minsky's.

My heart was crying on the inside as the delivery man dropped off at least six different kinds of pizza. I managed to pillage through the garden salad and make it work, removing all hard-boiled egg and crouton remnants. Lettuce, carrot shreds, cucumber, broccoli, and Italian dressing, yippee! And honestly, I don't really like salad.

Getting through lunch today did give me a bit of a boost (here's some motivation for ya). I realized that I CAN do this, I don't have to give into temptation, it's not as hard as I thought it would be, and it IS getting easier as time goes on. I'm also holding onto the hope that one day I'll completely forget what real cheese tastes like. Although it would be incredibly sad, it would make this process much easier.

A Pizza Kind of Love

Saw this as I walked out of the office today (the grease on the bottom means it's really good).

I wonder if there will ever come a day when a Minsky's box doesn't stir up cravings for Italian sausage and black olive pizza dipped in peppercorn ranch...

If I died tomorrow, vegan or not, I would want that to be my last meal. Period.

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