Monday, September 21, 2009

Pizza Drunk

You know when a baby finishes nursing and her head lolls back and her eyes roll up a little and she gets a goofy grin on her sweet little drooly mouth? And you know that she is unequivocally satisfied?

That's exactly the way Scott and I felt on Saturday night after eating the most *amazing* pizza in the history of all pizzas. As we finished stuffing ourselves silly, we sat back in our chairs, looked at each other and felt completely drunk on pizza.

Good thing for us (and our checking account) that this itty-bitty little pizza joint is a two hour drive away in Cannon Beach, OR. It's called Pizza a' fetta. Their sauce is perfectly sweet and spicy, their combo of cheeses is to die for. Who needs extra toppings when the basic is anything but basic?

Scott needs more than just cheese on his pizza, though, so he order a bbq chicken basil. Oh my gosh... I have not seen that man devour so much pizza in three and a half years (since he found out about his 28 food allergies). He didn't care about the allergies. Savoring this unbelievable pie was worth every discomfort. (Actually, he didn't have any! Bonus!)

Pizza a' fetta is rated number 33 out of all the country's indy pizza parlors. If number 33 is mind-blowingly good, what's number 1 like? It must be simply orgasmic.

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