TWO BOOTS ANIMAL COLLECTIVE PIZZA
I’ve always interpreted the philosophy of “food is fuel” differently than its original intention.
My mother is responsible for it. In order to get me to perform my best in Bharathanatyam (a form of Indian classical dance), she promised me Taco Bell if I met her high standards.
I thudded my foot, hit every hand gesture, and smiled/sad/expressed sorrow on cue. My reward – a tostada without lettuce & hot sauce (fire wasn’t available yet), an order or nachos, and cinnamon twists.
In college, white cheddar Cheetos and Diet Coke with Lime (the actual line flavor, not fresh lime) fueled the study sessions that propelled me to complete 5 years’ of credits in 4.
Chorizo tacos (with extra jalapeños) from Choza Taqueria saw me through the first draft of my book. Neuehouse’s excellent veggie burger (over a bed of salad instead of a bun, with Sriracha) got me through the final editing push.
And then there’s my mac-and-cheese, which I eat once a week without fail.
During the past two months, only one dish kept me going through the early mornings, the late nights, and the moments of wanting to throw my computer against the wall.
Two Boots Animal Collective pizza, with jalapeños or habaneros.
And wine. But only when said pizza was for dinner. Pro tip – toss the pizza in the toaster over and set to “toast”, level 4, for perfectly reheated pizza.
Animal Collective is basically spinach-artichoke dip on a pizza, which marries one of my great food loves with another. It’s soothing. It’s comforting.
Healthy? Not so much. But it heals my frayed nerves and my short temper.
If only it did something about my expanding waistline. Pass the salad, please. And the hot sauce.
