Tale of the Pie: SliCE (Rittenhouse Square)

When we went to Rittenhouse Square's economically named SliCEthe other day, we forgot our notepad. So I took notes via texts to my wife's phone. I figured I would then just look at the sent messages and I could recount the experience that way. One problem: I then proceeded to lose my phone that night. Being that I did not want to monopolize my wife's phone for a significant stretch, I was kind of stuck. Five days after the experience, the memory is starting to fade slightly so I had to snatch Spicy's mobile. I will now write a review of the pie, only rather than using the notes as the backbone of the review, I will type the texts in their entirety and then try to translate them as best as possible as extinguished memories hopefully return.

Even Thai Food Novices Can Be Dazzled by Pho Thai Nam

The other night, we were coming home from the Harrisburg Farm Show when the in-laws suggested that we go out for "Chinese." Why is Chinese in quotes? Because, and I suspect this was done on purpose due to my own culinary fears, when we actually showed up at the restaurant, it was not Chinese at all. It was Thai/Vietnamese. To be a little more exact, it was Pho Thai Nam, a restaurant in East Norriton, Pa. I have to say, I was none too pleased when we showed up at the spot and I realized what was going on. However, I quickly realized what a wonderful hidden jewel this place was, and how much I had been missing by avoiding Thai food all these years.

First of all, I had a great time just sitting in the restaurant. I found the decor to be quite pleasing with bold colors, overhead lamps that were shaped like flowers, and some tables being formed in the way of bamboo gazebos. Was it a little kitschy to have Thai television programs playing on a TV screen above the wait station? Perhaps. But I bought in, although I think that could also be due to the incredibly friendly service we got from our main server and another gentleman who looked to be a manager.

New York Edition: John Dory Oyster Bar the Lone Negative in a Splendid NYC Excursion

When we decided to stop at New York’s John Dory Oyster Bar during our trip to the Apple, it came near the conclusion of a long and trying day. The wife had walked many miles in uncomfortable shoes. I had pulled Lil’ Saucy out of his stroller about a million times for bathroom breaks that had turned out to be false alarms. We were on our way to Macy’s, the plus side of which is you get to see such beautiful sights as their meticulously designed storefront windows and their iconic Christmas-themed department store. The negative side of this, of course, is having to deal with all the idiots taking pictures of said windows and department store on their annoying camera phones. It was with all of this in mind that we decided to stop at John Dory Oyster Bar for a quick drink. I would like to think that some of this has contributed to what is going to be a fairly scathing review.

New York Edition: Pinche Taqueria Merits Both a Rave and a Word of Warning

Let me quickly knock out a review of Pinche Taqueria because the lag time between food consumption during our New York trip and actual discussion of said mastication is getting absolutely ridiculous. It has been like 18 days since I sampled the grub at this Mott St. eatery – one of two New York locations – and what follows is what I remember about our excursion.

Being that our blog is entitled The Pizza Project, it was our intention to sample as much New York City pizza as possible during our trip. To this end, we entered Lombardi’s Pizza with our sights on a circular, flour-and-dough-based delicacy with oozing cheese and delicious red tomato sauce. We spied an offering that someone was eating at an adjacent table and we immediately commenced salivation, Pavlov’s Dog-style. However, this is where everything began to go awry.

A Horribly Written Run-On Paragraph about Audubon's Everything Bagel

You know, I want to blog tonight, but I also want to maybe catch the episode of Boardwalk Empire that I am behind on so I am going to try and keep it as quick and dirty as possible with what I am going to say about Audubon bagel shop Everything Bagel.

Ate there the other day. I went a bunch of times before we started this blog because we had gotten sick of constantly going to our usual weekend breakfast haunt, Einstein Bagels. The thing with Einstein is that their "schmears" are really good, but their eggs are really fake and huge and every once in a while you just feel like you want a real egg. But I digress: Back to Everything Bagel. When we had gone there previously, I tried really hard to like it. However, after giving it a bunch of tries, I couldn't really shake the suspicion that they weren't giving you enough egg or bacon for the width of the bagel. It's like you have this really large bagel and then this sliver of egg that it was hard to believe was even one egg. It was like half an egg. Maybe 5/8? When you factor in that the bagel was often way too crunchy for an ideal piece of bread, it just didn't seem like it was a good deal. So we stopped going there and went to Panera for a while, but then we decided that their sandwiches were really bland and they didn't have much of a selection, and then we started going to Chick-Fil-A because they were giving the breakfast away for free if you came in wearing your pajamas, and then we went to McDonald's a couple times before we realized that we didn't want to have simultaneous coronaries, and then we ended up going back to Einstein because even though their eggs are really fake and it is usually pretty dirty in there and the service is spotty to be kind - there is one dizzy old broad who hasn't got my sandwich right the entire time I have been going; that's like five years - the schmears are like SO F*CKING GOOD!!! Anyway, back to the beginning of this disorganized diatribe. Everything Bagel. Went there the other day. Had a coupon and wanted to see if it wasn't as bad as I remembered. Found out that I had a really good memory (seriously, I am the SHEET in Quizzo for realz). The sandwich was mediocre. The bagel was huge and crunchy. It seemed like you got even less egg then I recalled. 3/8 of a huevo, maybe! They even seemed to skimp on the ketchup and hot sauce that I requested (then again, maybe the taste simply got enveloped by the INCREDIBLY LARGE CRUNCHY bagel, which was about as large as a lady's ass if said lady had an ass the size of Rhode Island). And then the kicker: the service even seems to have gone downhill. I don't know if it is the same owner as before or what, but the dude was always working the register and he was always very friendly. Didn't see him when I went. In his place was a fairly robotic lady who handed over to two other folks who went about their egg-frying business in a detached fashion that left me off-put. Man, I don't need a breakfast joint to be like Disney World or anything, but the place seemed to have the atmosphere of a movie audience walking out of a Schindler's List/Sophie's Choice double bill, nahm'sayin'? In closing, I will not be returning to Everything Bagel. The bagels are large and crunchy. The egg distribution thrifty. And the atmosphere not conducive to forgiving the culinary wrongs. With this screed completed, I can now go see if Jimmy Darmody decides to blow anybody's head off this week.

Everything Bagel
2642 Egypt Road
Audubon, PA 19403
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The Pizza Project
Just a nibble: http://twitter.com/ThePizzaProject
Single slice: http://www.facebook.com/ThePizzaProject
The full pie: http://thepizzaproject.blogspot.com/

Aruba Edition: Tale of the Pie - Casa Tua Pizzeria

On our last night in Aruba, Spicy and I decided to take Saucy Jr. and our friend Veggie Barcelona (she has not approved this name, but we want to protect her identity so I am taking a bit of a liberty here) over to Casa Tua Pizzeria for a bite to eat. Hilariously enough, this was the same day that we ate at Tomato Charlie's. So we had two meals consisting of pizza in one day.

But in case you have not noticed, we really like pizza. This was not a problem. Only thing is, we almost did not make it to our meal.

Better Late Than Never Reviews: Biophilia - Bjork

Supposedly, there is a special iPad app for every song on Icelandic songstress Bjork's eighth (ninth, if you count Selmasongs, which I probably would) studio album, Biophilia. There is also word of an incredibly designed interactive touring spectacular. Well, two things: I don't have an iPad nor do I have plans on bolstering the bottom line of Steve Jobs' estate any time soon and I live in Philly, a city that usually doesn't make it on the itinerary when The Lady Who Rocked the Swan Dress decides to tour. But that is OK. For the music on Biophilia, Bjork's best, most complete, and most sonically innovative album since Vespertine, is more than enough.

I don't know if Bjork was taken aback by the negative reaction to her last album, 2007's uneven yet underrrated Volta - probably not because she does not strike me as someone who would really care - but with this disc she has chosen to move away from the impulses that had her collaborating with hitmaker Timbaland and gravitated toward a collage of sounds so odd she had to literally invent new instruments to make them possible. One example of this is the album's lead single and strongest overall offering, "Crystalline." Using an instrument dubbed the "gamaleste," because it is a combination of the celesta and the gamelan (two other instruments that I have never heard of, by the way), Bjork crafts a twinkling beat that is instantly addictive. Over this, she layers (and every song on the album benefits from extensive listening) whip-crack percussion and airy, ambient sonics. It is interesting also to note that the song, while avant garde as f*ck, is as effective as it is because it also applies basic pop structure, including a terrific chorus, multiple-part harmonies, and a extremely rocked-out drum-and-bass closer. That's right; I used to hear those all the time on Beach Boys records.

Tale of the Pie: Amedeo's Too

I should have taken it as a sign.

A mere three hours before the Philadelphia Phillies took the field at Citizens Bank Park and treated their loyal followers to a performance akin to a steakhouse diner in need of a Heimlich maneuver, we chose to order a pizza from Norristown's Amedeo's Too (yeah, I don't really get the "too"either). This was a mistake akin to sending Cliff Lee out in the seventh inning of a game in which he was clearly being shelled (yeah, I will shut up about the Phillies soon).

It's a shame too because the people working at this place are very nice. When I went to pick up the pie, they were wild about Saucy Jr., telling me how cute he was and certainly making me feel very comfortable with their prompt service. But, of course, their prompt service was part of the problem. You see, they quoted me 20 minutes to make the pie. Despite the fact that I live a mere 10 minutes away and I left immediately because I am always suspicious of pizza shop time-quotes, the pizza and wings I ordered were already available when I entered the store. Factor in the drive home and this meant cold food and a very bumpy start to the Amedeo's pizza experience.

When I arrived at home and opened the box, the disappointments kept coming. You see, the wife was in the mood for sausage and peppers so we added that to the pie. For whatever reason, I am not always a major fan of sausage on pizza, so I requested extra sauce. This is always a quandary, I suppose, for the pizza maker, but really what I want when I ask for this is just a little more sauce than the usual pie. I want it to ooze a little bit out of the slice when I fold the pie. What I am not looking for is sauce seemingly applied via fire hose. Unfortunately, Amedeo's response to the extra sauce request was closer to the latter, with an overload of sauce provided beneath the cheese and an extra dollop added to the pizza in the form of a red-topper. It was just too much.

As for the actual taste of the sauce, I must confess that there was a bit of a split decision between myself and the wife. The better half thought it was fairly good, but I'm writing the review and I felt that it was heavily sugared and not overly reminiscent of tomato despite the fact that it was extremely chunky.

The excess sauce also did no favors to the rest of the pie's elements. It softened what was already a very thick, chewy crust. I am also convinced that the pie was not properly cooked time-wise because under extensive examination I not only detected its mushiness orally, but the eye test revealed segments of the slice that seemed extremely doughy as if it was pulled out a little too early. The cheese of the pie certainly did not pop with flavor, and it was made worse due to the poor time-quote. It was clumpy and ooze-resistant. The toppings overall were a bust to me as well. Yes, the green peppers seemed fresh, but who can blow a green pepper? The sausage, on the other hand, was underspiced. It seemed like someone had sliced up some breakfast links and tossed them on the pie. The wife noted that they did distribute the toppings liberally, but if you are not really feeling the flavor of them, there comes a time when that is a bit of a liability, no?

So OK, the main attraction was a bit of a letdown, but the good thing is that we also ordered the wings. Perhaps, they would be so spectacular that they would make the $21 purchase worthwhile! Sorry. If you thought that was what I was going to write, you had probably already reserved your spot on Broad St. for the Phillies parade. Don't be so gullible; the appetizer was awful too. While they were plump enough, they had an unforgivable lack of sauce on them and that which was there added virtually nothing detectable by the average tastebud. We pretty much had to douse those joints with Cholula just to make them semi-enjoyable.

I think you know where this review is going: You are thinking that it is heading full steam ahead toward a sentence that begins with "Don't" and ends with "order a pizza from Amedeo's Too." And you would be correct. Only I would be remiss if I didn't mention their location as well. I hate it. Their parking lot is ridiculously small. You pretty much have to be an instructor for the DMV to get out of the vicinity without scratching up your (or somebody else's) beloved automobile. By the way, sorry, Dude in Benz who I left with a horrible surprise. I'm sure your insurance will cover it! Now, if only they would give you back the money you spent on that lousy pie from Amedeos Too.


Pros: Nice people at the register, uh...fresh green peppers?

Cons: Overly liberal application of extra sauce, thick, doughy crust, clumpy cheese, inaccurate time quote for pickup

Amedeo's Too
1961 West Main St.
Eagleville, PA 19403

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The Pizza Project
Just a nibble: http://twitter.com/ThePizzaProject
Single slice: http://www.facebook.com/ThePizzaProject
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Nino's Family Restaurant: A Fine Option for Italian in Wildwood

I'm not going to lie: When we were recently in Wildwood, I was not very excited when my Mom told us that we were going to go to Nino's Family Restaurant for dinner. First of all, the idea of Italian food in a Shore town doesn't exactly thrill me. It seems like the sort of place where you would simply want to get a pizza or some steaks or something. And then there is the fact that we were down there out of season. With so few people down there (even on a Labor Day weekend; the weather had driven a lot of people home), I found it hard to believe that the ingredients could be up to snuff. All this being said, I am not one to argue, especially when my Mom was going to be paying (thanks, Mom!).

Poor Service Spoils a Fine Getaway to Cabanas in Cape May

This Labor Day, we shot down to Wildwood for a family get-together. On one particularly rainy day, the little guy simply did not want to take a nap. So we decided to go for a ride and see if that would help him slip off into Dreamland. To our satisfaction, the ploy worked and a drive around Wildwood quickly turned into an excursion to Cape May. The farthest shore point has always been a favorite of ours and one place where we have had a couple good experiences is Cabanas Beach Bar and Grill. On this day, we decided to stop in and get an appetizer and a couple of drinks before a dinner later that night.

While the vibe of Cabanas may be a bit on the kitschy side, I have always enjoyed it. I like the Caribbean feel of the decor. The Bob Marley tunes blaring out of the speakers really add to a relaxing atmosphere. For our appetizer, we decided to try the Mexican Nachos Grande, a plate of tortilla chips with pulled pork, refried beans, jalapenos, pico de gallo, and other pleasing toppings. I thought the dish worked very well, although I can admit to being a person who prefers a wet salsa to a pico de gallo. I think it works better for dipping and ensuring that your chips are never naked. This slight lack of ingredients was the main complaint of Spicy, who felt there were times when more toppings, especially the pulled pork, could have been in order. For myself, I can say that I did not think this was a major violation on their part. The toppings were a little tough to get to, what with some of them being under the chips, but I did not feel Cabanas was delinquent in their topping distribution. It just required the breaking out of forks and knives at times.

New Jersey's Pour House is Enjoyable, not Award-Worthy

In the June/July edition of the very entertaining magazine, Beer Scene, the publication named Westmont's The Pour House as the "Best Classic Bar" in the states of New Jersey and Delaware. Being that I was in the area yesterday, I decided to stop by and find out if their choice held water. The answer unfortunately was both "Yes" and "No."

First, the Yes. There is simply no denying that this place has a very impressive beer list. The following is just a sample of some of the luminaries they are featuring in bottles: Avery. Hitachino. Stone. North Coast. Ommegang. I imagine you could sit here for days and you wouldn't run out of interesting beers to sample. You would probably have to get your stomach pumped, but that is another matter altogether. The draft list also has plenty to savor. As of this writing, they have, among others, Anderson Valley Bootlinger Weiss, Green Flash West Coast IPA, and Stone Ruination IPA. You get the idea: It's a quality lineup. In the interest of full disclosure, the beers I had during my stay were a stellar Weyerbacher Verboten, a Sly Fox Chester County Brown Ale (more on that later), and bottles of Lagunitas Dogtown Pale Ale and Yards Thomas Jefferson Tavern Ale (both wonderful).

Your Way, Right Away? At Hot Tamales, It's Their Way or...Get the Hell Out!

As we have said several times before, we, the people behind the proverbial curtain of The Pizza Project, cannot survive on sauce, cheese, and crust alone. Every once in a while, we have to try something else. And, for myself, I have probably tried one place more than any other when it comes to eating lunch in Center City Philadelphia, where I have toiled for over 10 years. That place is Hot Tamales, a maker of burritos, tacos, quesadillas, and other fare. In all the time I have been going there, I never really stopped to take a critical view of why it is that I frequent the place in such loyal fashion. That is, until now.

For my lunch, I ordered two items: an "original" beef burrito and a black bean and fiesta rice burrito. First up was the beef burrito, which is a very simple item consisting of beef, tomato, lettuce, sour cream, and shredded cheese. While I, of course, enjoy the item (I have ordered both many a time), the beef did seem to be a little bit salty and the sour cream (a condiment that I have only recently begun to develop a palette for) sometimes seemed like the No. 1 ingredient. The hot sauce that I applied to add flavor was of great assistance, but I must say I wouldn't really describe it as being particularly "hot." Spicy? Sure. But it is not something that is going to add any sort of great kick or get you sweating a bit in the eyebrow area. The most intriguing thing I found about the dish on this occasion is that it wasn't even particularly hot temperature-wise. It was almost as if the tortilla had been taken out of a refrigerator directly before it was wrapped around the internal goods.

The Blue Route Taco Truck at Whole Foods: Eat the Tacos, but Hold the Chicken

There was a time when I probably would not have been caught dead in a Whole Foods. They quite simply did not have enough unhealthy options for my fat-and-sugar-loving palette. But now that the wife has me eating healthy (fruits and vegetables can taste good; how about that), I find myself going there a little more often. Plus, the fact that they serve beer not only in six-packs, but incredibly cheap growlers helps.

Well, add one more line to that list of reasons not to dread going to Whole Foods: they have tacos!

This past Thursday, the wife, myself, and Saucy Jr. checked out the Blue Route Taco Truck, a charmingly underadvertised haven for the taco lover on the roof of the market chain's Plymouth Meeting store. They had a Happy Hour deal (one that I believe will still be going on every Thursday for a few more weeks) from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. where you could get three tacos for five dollars as well as one of their selection of canned beers for $1.99, and we figured, "Heck, why not? It's fun for three people to eat for less than $14. Let's give it a try."

Making "Friends": The Pizza Project Reviews Barry's Yawnin' in the Dawnin'

So we got an e-mail the other day from a fellow named Bradford Barry. He said he was a member of a band named simply - in a move out of the Van Halen playbook - Barry. He had noticed some of the album review work we had done on The Pizza Project, and he wondered if we would be interested in reviewing the EP his band, a group of three brothers from Hume, New York, had put together.

Now the fact of the matter is I wanted to dismiss this request straight away. I am a busy man. If I have free time, I am either going to enjoy it by spending time with my wife and son, reading some fine prose by Joyce or Tolstoy, or working my cardiovascular system in an intense yet heart-healthy fashion (oh, who am I kidding; I would most likely be at the Wegman’s looking for a beer I haven’t tasted before). But then I noticed something. It turned out that Mr. Bradford Barry had done something very, very, very...savvy: He kissed my arse. Appealed to my ego. And I am pretty much a raging egomaniac.

Better Late Than Never Reviews: 4 - Beyonce

The third album by Beyonce Knowles, I Am...Sasha Fierce, was both a musical and an environmental disappointment. The world did not need her overly precious cover of "Ave Maria," nor did it need an 11-song album printed on two CDs just so an accomplished star could pretend to be her sassy alter ego. After the sensation that was Dangerously in Love and the underrated follow-up, B'Day, her fourth studio album, the unfortunately titled 4, found Jay-Z's main squeeze looking to prove that she did not lose ground to the Katy Perrys and the Lady Gagas of the world. Luckily, the former Destiny's Child songstress chose not to compete on their pop level and made an album that, despite having a few flaws, shows a mature artist who is still capable of churning out effortless body-movers.

Beginning with the Princely, soulful, rock-tinged ballad, "1+1," the 12-song album (yes, more than Sasha Fierce yet contained on one disc) continues quite strongly for 10 tracks. Highlights include "I Care," a bass-heavy mid-tempo joint with Squarepusher-esque airy synth and a nasty guitar solo/Beyonce vocal run (a past weakness that she is admirably restrained with throughout the album), "End of Time," a Michael Jackson-influenced banger with effectively chaotic production by producers Diplo and Switch, and "Party," a Kanye West track whose off-kilter beats and funhouse keys were attractive enough to get Andre 3000 to climb out from whatever rock he has been living under (the erstwhile Outkast MC contributes a verse that will hopefully hold the world over until he decides to put something full-length on wax). The very 80s "Love on Top" also satisfies, with Knowles putting in some of her best vocal work. I even managed to get into the one that Babyface wrote, "Best Thing I Never Had." It had to be the incredibly massive chorus, because I have to tell you: I never thought I would be able to get down with a song with piano that sounds like it was played by John Tesh in his NBA theme song era.

New to the Collection: Milk

Every time Saucy adds a new DVD to his increasingly mammoth film collection, he will take the time to provide five indelible scenes that convinced him to spend his hard-earned sheckles on something he could have gotten for free with a DVD burner and a Netflix subscription. This installment discusses Milk, the 2008 biopic of gay icon and San Francisco revolutionary Harvey Milk by iconoclast director Gus Van Sant.

1) Harvey Milk meets Scott Smith
Other than the provocative opening sequence that shows actual footage of gay men being harassed by police, this is the first scene of the movie, and the thing that makes it so interesting is that it is so...boring. It's just a simple meet-cute scene between two men filmed in matter-of-fact fashion by Van Sant, who with this opening states that he doesn't plan on treating two men meeting each other and agreeing to a tryst as anything out of the ordinary. No swelling orchestra music. No winking concessions for the straight audience. Just two people running into each other and falling in love...kind of. Just like straight people do. That is sort of the point, I think.

Ten Quick Thoughts about...True Grit (2010)

1) I am certainly not a fan of the whole sequel/remake/reboot fascination that is running rampant through Hollywood in this foul era of our cinema (heard today they are remaking Total Recall), but this is one that I think was well worth the effort. Supposedly, the film is more loyal to the intent of the book than the 1969 version that starred John Wayne so it doesn’t really count as a remake; it is better termed a reinterpretation (I must be honest and say that I have not read the novel by Charles Portis, nor have I seen the entire film – saw enough to see that John Wayne was good fun, but probably not award-worthy, and that the girl playing Mattie Ross was kind of annoying and awkward). In any event, the new version is a strong story of retribution with the customary dark wit of the Coen Brothers.

Better Late Than Never Reviews: Circuital - My Morning Jacket

Circuital, the sixth studio album by Kentucky rockers My Morning Jacket, is four-fifths of a great album. While not as grandiose as Z or adventurous as their last album, Evil Urges, it does feature eight tracks with their signature multi-guitar attack, layered sonics, and endlessly memorable choruses. However, the last two tracks on the album are enough to wonder if the band simply fell asleep at the wheel or if they were working to have the same thing happen to their audience while they were operating their automobiles.

Album highlights include the title track, a seven-minute monster that alternates between spare, echo-filled acoustics and soaring, country-tinged electric solos, all of which is balanced by an instantly catchy bass line and nimble piano work. "The Day Is Coming" also stands out, with a somewhat ghostly wordless intro, more stellar work on the keys (both conventional and Moog-like), and one of lead singer Jim James' best vocal turns of the album. "Holdin' on to Black Metal," which ranks as the album's best song and the one that best encapsulates the bands delicate balance of delicate songcraft and R&B eccentricity, features tweaked James vocals formed into a sort of demonic choir (and even some actual chorus work in other parts), unhinged horns, unholy fuzz guitar, and some terrifically intrusive horn blares. All in all, the first eight tracks of the album work as a tremendous unit, all of which makes the letdown of the last two tracks all the more disappointing.

Better Late Than Never Reviews: Turtleneck & Chain - The Lonely Island

Sorry to all of our devoted fans on Google Images - wow, y'all heads really enjoy Chinese food, huh - for a slight break in content. We were on a short hiatus for the July 4th holiday, but we are now back for what is going to be a veritable explosion of content.

First up is a review of the second album by comedy rap trio, The Lonely Island. The group, consisting of comedians/comedy writers Andy Samberg, Jorma Taccone, and Akiva Schaffer, is almost certainly more famous among the populace for the digital shorts they create for Saturday Night Live, but on their sophomore effort they prove to be just as deft with their ability to manufacture strong hip-hop beats.

Five Reviews of Five CDs in Five Sentences: Gaga, The Strokes, and More

Angles - The Strokes
The New York-based quintet is just four albums into their career and it is clear that they have no idea what sort of band they want to be. Frontman Julian Casablancas' love for electric sheen has seaped into the band's repertoire and they seem to have forgotten how to do what they do best: write memorable choruses and epic, dueling guitar lines. For every awesome track, like "Taken for a Fool," it seems like you get two uninspired ones, like "Call Me Back," a dirge-like piece of business with odd time shifts and horrific vocoder interludes (the world would be a better place if they never recorded a song like this again). Word is Casablancas couldn't even bother showing up for the recording of this album, choosing to record his vocals on a different coast than the band. If they can't come up with better than this next time, perhaps they should all stop showing up for work?