Finding an eye for an eye too extreme a reprisal I settled for a Pizza for a Pizza instead! The woe of being fed a dull disk of dough a week ago had to be evened out somehow. #uncookedwords
Spread across a pliant flatbread of eleven inches in diameter lay princely doses of garlicky pesto, chunks of roasted chicken, jiggly Fior di Latte – a close kin to Mozzarella, briny Feta and fresh Jalapenos tossed with tender, sweet and brown caramelised onions as toppings, hemmed in impeccably by a thin cornicione, or edge, baked the Neapolitan way. That was Pollo Picante at Fabbrica Della Pizza - an ace showstopper and my darling.
Eating Pizza is making love - that all do but not alike. A gentle press from above the crust with index finger made the edge of my pizza snap and fold from middle causing the entire slice double up into a narrower triangle all set to be led into the mouth. Thus folded and dipped in chilli-oil I ate my Pollo Picante with eyes shut - gladly forfeiting the unusual glee of watching my prey happily disappear.
And, it healed my woe to the bone.
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