Saturday, March 31, 2012

Working with Other Trailer Rats

And I mean that in the most endearing way possible. It's been just barely over a month since I started working in a food trailer and already I feel an amazing connection to the culture and the people who have really built it here in Austin. I, of course, was fortunate enough to begin my industry hike in a park with 5 other trailers, the owners and workers of which have just barely started to show me the way. Whether they know it or not, I have already gleaned an incredible amount of knowledge and wisdom about the industry from them, and I can only hope to continue to do so.

Unfortunately, we at the East Side Drive-In have been suffering some significant losses over the last couple of weeks and will continue to endure them in the coming months. First we lost a trailer that made the only fish and chips I have ever tasted and, from what I understand, the only ones I will ever need to. The satisfaction derived from the light and crispy beer batter encapsulating a perfectly cooked Bits and Druthers fish cannot be described in words alone. And the malt vinegar used for dipping nearly makes me lose my capacity for speech altogether. Little did I know that about a week after my first addicting bite, the endearing little English trailer would be hitting the road, gone from my life forever. 




 Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm.

Tonight marked an even more personal loss for all of us I believe. Pigvicious, the bacon-wrapped, grease-soaked wonder child served its last plate of bacon-wrapped, deep-fried pickles, to the dismay of every savvy Austinite. Even more disappointing than the loss of all things bacon will be the absence of those who slung it. I am nothing short of remorseful to have missed the opportunity to really know these vicious lovers, and I hope with all my heart that they will continue to be a part of my life in any capacity possible. They are truly some of the most genuine souls I have yet to encounter.




How can you not love that?

Over the course of conversation this dismal evening, I was warned a number of times not to aspire to own a trailer. My endless questions led me to the understanding that for many, this was not a lucrative business, which inspired an understandable resentment. And yet each of the trailer lackeys mentioned at some point that there was something they loved, something that drew them to the business. I get the feeling that these people are looking out for me and don't want me to undergo the stresses that owning a trailer entails, but the minute I reminded them that food is my passion, their worries immediately melted away. "Oh," they sighed in relief, "then there you go. You'll be fine." I couldn't help but allow an enormous smile to come over my face with the understanding that I was getting into something that would drive me into the ground. And yet I would delight in every second of it. 

Friday, March 30, 2012

Big Culinary Weekend Ahead!

I don't have too much to say today, as it has been an incredibly long week, but there will be lots of excitement to come! 

Schedule for the Weekend Ahead:

Saturday, March 31--Austin Beer Festival (yes, I'm a bit of a beer snob as well)
Sunday, April 1--Lunch at Fatback Boucherie's (Cajun butcher/food trailer) fundraising crawfish boil and Restaurant Week Dinner Reservations at Siena Ristorante Toscano
Monday, April 2--Restaurant Week Reservations for Lunch at Max's Wine Dive and for Dinner at Trace (at the W Hotel)

Not to worry, there will be reviews to come for each of these!

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Ingredient Forum (First Entry): Crème Légère

I have decided to start an ingredient forum, where we can all work together to learn more about potential ingredients in our culinary futures. I want to hear about each of the ways in which you have used the ingredient in question, and anything you'd like to try but have concerns with. I think it'll be a great way to collaborate and create a pool of ideas to be pulled from by all involved. 


The first ingredient I'd like to open the floor on is Crème Légère. A friend of mine brought me a small amount that his mother sent to the States from his home in France. As I understand it, the cream is like a lighter, thinner version of crème fraiche and has a multitude of uses. Christophe recommended that I add a bit of the cream at the end of the cooking process to thicken up a sauce, for example, and add that smooth buttery finish to any dish. The research I've done has shown that most uses seem to be as part of a dessert. The most interesting recipe I have found so far was for a candied fennel sponge cake, the results of which I will definitely share once I find the time to attempt it. 




Check it! It's all in French. How cool is that?


Let the discussion begin! I can't wait to hear what you guys have to contribute!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Thoughts on Enjoyment vs. Necessity of Food (Short Version)

I have to say, whether anyone has been reading my blog or not, I certainly have enjoyed holding myself to the promise to create an entry every day. My motivation has forced me to self-reflect and to be constantly working my way up in the culinary world through the things I have learned as a result. 

For example, as guest after guest approached my station today, I noticed more than ever the desperation in their eyes over a slice or 2 of mediocre pizza. Many of them approach the area with a sense of urgency, as if they are liable to lose their minds at any moment should we not have exactly the slice they're jonesing for. Their wide eyes and domineering stances leave me uneasy, and I have to fight the urge to slap each of them as they reach over the glass, nearly contaminating my pizza with their greedy fingers. As I watched the cycle repeat itself with guest after guest, I understood that their behavior was bred, in part, by the environment. Suffice it to say that an air of relaxation and enjoyment is not fostered by an environment where food is produced in bulk. The message sent by these sorts of bulk suppliers is that they are taking a turn and burn approach and maximizing the number of sales they can make, rather than the guest's indulgence in the product. As sacred as food has become for me, I simply cannot fathom owning an establishment where the enjoyment of my food was not the priority. 

I lend an enormous level of care to the creation of my food, and I want nothing more than for those who taste it to experience it as I had intended. I have always understood dining to be a community event, one that would bring people together over a common, and often indulgent necessity. When the time finally comes for me to own a restaurant, I can only hope that my food will succeed in slowing people down, giving them a break from their lives, and allowing them each to just live in the moment.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Creating my First Garden (from the ground up)

I'm honestly not sure what's taken me so long, but I think it's about time I start my own garden. I've only had the privilege of cooking with ingredients straight from the vine (or sea in one incident involving a freshly-caught 325-pound shark) on a couple occasions since I started going down this road. Those experiences, though, were undoubtedly among the best in my very short cooking career, and I want to make them a more frequent occurrence. It may have taken me longer than it should have to come to this realization, but I'm finally there: Any cook who is worth anything simply knows the ingredients he works with and has put in the time and effort to understand how to make those ingredients do the work for him in the kitchen. From this notion followed the epiphany that the best way to comprehend my ingredients (and their potential for greatness as parts of a whole) was to cultivate them for myself.

Ok, great. So I want to get a start on my new garden. Just one problem: I live in an apartment with little to no viable earth on the premises. Oh and never have I seen myself as the inheritor of the proverbial "green thumb." So of course I set out to learn from the greatest teacher of our generation: Google. I dove into my research with the intention of beginning my garden with one small basil plant that I could nurture indoors. After delving into the list of equipment and materials I would require to execute such a goal, I happened to mention my plans out loud to Luke, and I could not have been more pleasantly surprised by his answer. In over 2 years of dating this man, I had no idea he was the gardener type. It feels great to be able to continue pulling back the layers with him to discover such charming tid bits. But I digress. His immediate reaction was one of support and genuine enthusiasm. To my astonishment, he started throwing out all sorts of ideas to build a hydroponic growth system for the foods I wanted to be able to grow in my limited natural environment. I knew there would eventually be a tangible advantage to having a 2 bedroom apartment all to myself! 

Unfortunately, the hydroponic system would initially demand a relatively large sum, one that I'm not necessarily willing to dole out so quickly as a lower-middle class working girl. So to launch the "garden," we have decided to grow basil, jalapeños, and possibly tomatoes. Luke offered to build a stand for my pots that would elevate them on my porch to a level that would bring them a sufficient amount of sunlight. For now, this process will be significantly cheaper and will afford me the opportunity to test my true willingness to care for a dog, a cat, a boyfriend, and a couple of plants. Should I happen to succeed in raising something that musters even the shadow of what should be a food product, I can't see any reason not to expand my garden to the hydroponic realm and put that spare room of mine to good use! 

Having a new project like this to throw myself into feels incredible, and I can assure you, my cyber friends, that the entire process will be well documented with photos and explanations. I am so curious to see what could come of this, and what it might feel like not to have to purchase all of the condiments for my homemade Pho separately. But that's a posting for another time.


Here's to all of this coming from just across the hall.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Culinary Quote Archive (Part 4): On the Importance of the Journey

"The journey is part of the experience, an expression of the seriousness of one's intent. One doesn't take the A train to Mecca." -Anthony Bourdain




Oh Anthony, so many more interesting/offensive quotes I could take from you, like, "Don't touch my dick, don't touch my knife," or one of the many hateful musings concerning the folly of vegans/vegetarians. Sifting through the vast pool of your contemplations has left me amused and yet slightly cringing. I am more than certain I will breach the subjects of some of your more controversial ruminations at a later date, but for today, I settle for your mildly cliché thoughts on the journey, as they seem to coincide with things I've been experiencing as of late.

I have claimed that my personal career journey has persisted for the last couple of years, but it's really only been the last couple of months that have been truly enlightening. There must be a direct correlation between throwing myself into a job at a food truck (the culinary world as I prefer to see it), and my increased motivation to seek out my own culinary aspirations. I've finally found myself setting concrete goals and asking the questions I need to, to get where I want to be. I've recently been exposed to several of the unpleasantries of the field I intend to enter, and yet I've found myself enjoying each of the stresses in some strange capacity. 

Being an integral part of the growth of a small-business (no matter how small a part that may be), has been a very telling experience so far. We have dealt with innumerable obstacles (large and small) in the short time I have been a part of the project, and yet I have smiled through all of them. I genuinely want to contribute the solution. That fact right there reassures me that I am pursuing a goal I will ultimately be legitimately pleased with upon reaching. I expect to glean countless invaluable tid-bits through the sole act of walking the walk, but the most substantial will undoubtedly be the comprehension that I have determinately discovered that which I will die happy doing. I gotta tell ya, that's just the most amazing feeling, and it certainly makes the long road ahead of me seem just that much shorter. There's a cliché right back at ya, Mr. Bourdain.

"Game Over" by PES

Being passionate about something as universal as food can be truly great sometimes. For instance, there is no shortage of creative people expressing their skills through the means of food for my enjoyment. I am particularly fond of a stop-motion filmmaker called PES, and one of his short films follows. ENJOY!


"Game Over" by PES

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Healthy (and Delicious) Eating Ideas

Those of you who know me personally understand that when it comes to food, I will sacrifice health for flavor any day. Now don't get me wrong, if it is possible to use healthier ingredients and still retain the flavor, I will do it, but I will always cook my Cajun food with pork lard and plenty of starch. That's just the way it's meant to be, and I can't argue with the results. Today though, when I was trying to decide what to make for dinner, my boyfriend rejected my gumbo idea and suggested that we have something light and plant strong. I was astonished, as I know he loves the food I normally cook, but I certainly understood the desire for something slightly healthier.

I have to admit it took me much longer than usual to come up with something to cook, knowing I had to keep it healthy, but after an afternoon of brainstorming with my baby, we came up with something sensible and delicious. He suggested that we make Texas caviar (which I will explain for those of you not from these parts), and I came up with a fresh and fantastically tasty dinner salad. It felt absolutely wonderful to design a meal that we knew was healthier than the things we usually ate, and for it to turn out to be so incredibly satisfying. 

Our feel-great meal began with the Texas caviar, a unique bean dip of sorts. I, of course, can't seem to manage to follow a recipe, but I loved how mine turned out regarldess. It is so simple to make, and with some trans fat free corn chips, it's a fairly healthy and undeniably fresh way to begin your meal. In a bowl, I simply combined black beans, black-eyed peas, fresh diced red onions, green bell peppers, jalapeños, sliced grape tomatoes, pressed garlic, orange juice, grapefruit juice, pineapple juice, a hint of lime juice, white wine vinegar, salt, fresh ground black pepper, and a couple of dashes of Tabasco. After allowing this mixture to chill in the refrigerator, I threw in some rough chopped cilantro and served it up. Enjoyed on the perfectly salted corn chips, the dip was ridiculously refreshing and texturally invigorating, but the best part was knowing that I wasn't eating something that would ultimately send me to my grave. It's nice to feel that way now and then, isn't it?


Look at those beautiful colors.

The main course of our delectable meal would be a surprisingly satisfying dinner salad with a home-made dressing. First, I got a few boneless chicken breasts marinating in the refrigerator so they'd have a chance to really take in all that flavor. The marinade I concocted contained orange, grapefruit and pineapple juices, brown sugar, salt, garlic powder, black pepper, and crushed red pepper flakes. While the chicken was soaking up all of those wonderful juices, I started work on an interesting new vinaigrette. I'd seen a recipe earlier today for a pear vinaigrette, but when I got to the grocery store, the pears were tiny and browning. I decided to go with granny smith apples instead and seek out a different flavor for the dressing. In a sauté pan I threw one diced granny smith apple, red onions, jalapeños, white wine vinegar, white sugar, salt, and black pepper. Once the apples had softened, I removed the mixture from the stovetop and poured it into my food processor, adding olive oil at a slow drizzle until the mixture was emulsified. After tasting, I decided to add some of the fruit juice mixture I'd used to marinate the chicken, as well as plenty more white sugar to balance the tartness. While my carefully balanced new vinaigrette chilled in the refrigerator, I sliced up cucumbers, red onions, green bell peppers, and jalapeños to add to the salad. The chicken was poached in its marinade, leaving the meat extremely tender and juicy. Once cooked, I chilled the chicken to be served cold on top of the salad. Next I added a little bit of bleu cheese, some dried cranberries, and a few garbanzo beans to the salad before serving it up to my hungry boyfriend. 


Sometimes the photos just can't do it justice. It's all about the taste.

His immediate reaction was so sincere and encouraging, and upon tasting this amazing salad, I couldn't agree with him more. It felt so wonderful to delve into something so uniquely scrumptious and know that it would also be doing my body well. I might have to try this healthy eating thing more often. Whole Foods would be proud.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Culinary Quote Archive (Part 3): On Cajun Cooking Philosophy

"Cajun-Creole foods are steadfastly un-trendy. The adherents of the cuisine could care less what color peppercorns are "in" this year, or what obscure fruit has been discovered on a remote South Pacific island to command five dollars apiece in New York markets. And now for the big jolt to the world of haughty or 'haute' cuisine. It doesn't even matter if you use canned artichoke bottoms or garlic powder or premixed Cajun-Creole seasonings. The taste of the completed dish is the final judge. If it tastes wonderful, isn't that what it's all about?" -Terry Thompson from her Cajun-Creole Cookbook 


My aspirations for culinary advancement are enormous, and for this reason I sometimes find myself forgetting my roots, what it means to cook for the pure enjoyment of the food. Although I stand by my decision to forgo culinary school and teach myself through any and all means possible, I have noticed that I often push myself to experiment with more advanced or unusual ingredients and techniques just to see what I can do. I've completely amazed myself with some of the things I've accomplished as a result of this trial by fire method, but I know I need sentiments like these to bring me back to the way I really enjoy cooking. My Cajun heart beats for something lard and flour based, something with plenty of flavor, seasoned to taste by a cook raised to simply know when their food is good and ready. 

As a girl, I was too naive and lazy to get into the kitchen with my mother, the cook in the family, but somehow, the first pot of red beans and rice I made on my own was still perfect. It was something I was raised eating, and when I cooked it, I just knew I was doing it right. I was surrounded by my closest friends, swooning over the smells of smoked ham hocks infusing their flavor into the slowly softening beans. That smell is one I will always be able to recognize, and it is one that I hope only to experience in the presence of my most beloved. Cajun cuisine is one of those things I have always known to be enjoyed best with anyone who happens to be around and hungry. It excites an undeniable sense of community in all who appreciate the spirit of the food and the culture that inspired it, and for that reason, I can never imagine holding another cuisine in higher regard. No matter where my culinary career ultimately takes me, I can only strive to remember that if my food tastes wonderful and my loved ones are around to enjoy it with me, that's what it's all about. 

Friday, March 23, 2012

Thoughts on Passion-Seeking

Today proved to be an incredibly telling day for me because today was the day I really began to understand the meaning of "work" and the strains of entrepreneurialism. We are all familiar with the notion that choosing a job we love will ensure that we never work a day in our lives, but I have begun to realize the exertion necessary of anyone aspiring to seek out their passions. There are simply going to be unpleasant bumps in the road to success, regardless of the avenue we choose to take. Of course we are able to embark on a smoother journey with the knowledge of the thing that makes us tick, but there's inevitable complications associated with each. 

Those of you who know me are aware of my intentions to open a food truck in the near future, and while I am absolutely certain that I will enjoy the hell out of the experience, I caught a glimpse today of the most tedious of tasks at hand. I stood by and observed as my boss and mentor maintained composure in the face of some incredible stresses. Re-inspection was required of our trailer, and the 3 people that man it (including myself) were forced to essentially disassemble the guts of the business for transport and consequently reassemble them upon return to our resting place. At the heart of this process, of course, was my operating manager, who has had the weight of the world (or at least the multi-ton trailer) on his shoulders. Every obstacle that has been thrown at us has been artfully resolved by the man in charge, and his levelheadedness has forced me to question my ability to take on such responsibilities for myself. In most situations I would be more than willing to admit my inability or unwillingness to manage these issues, but my confidence in my chosen path has only been strengthened by the fact that I am excited to handle these such complications for my business. Although I have been forced to come to terms with the most unpleasant and tedious tasks associated with my obsession, I can assuredly endorse my intentions to zealously seek my passion. I only aspire now to maintain a sense of pragmatism as I embark on the most surreal of excursions at hand.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Culinary Quote Archive (Part 2): On Neglecting Recipes

"Cooking is an observation-based process that you can't do if you're so completely focused on a recipe." -Alton Brown

In many ways, my refusal to read instructions, or at least to adhere to them completely, has provided me the opportunity to experiment with things in my own way. This hasn't always been the best plan (like when trying assemble my IKEA furniture) but it seems to have worked out in my favor so far as a cook and professional foodie. Don't get me wrong, I have certainly peeked at a recipe or two to get an idea of the way things should go when trying out new dishes, but not once have I followed a recipe down to the very last pinch of salt. There's just no excitement or potential for growth in that method. I prefer to empower myself with the will to create, and for that, I must be willing to lose myself in the cooking process. Recipes, for me, are a hindrance, blinders that shield me from the sensory wonders defining the entire culinary adventure. Learning to cook is not about reproducing a dish that another mind has already conceived, but rather about experiencing the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures of the ingredients and the masterpieces they ultimately construct through imaginative manipulation. The great beauty in my comprehension of this concept is the fact that my growth as a cook (and also as a person) will be interminable.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Culinary Quote Archive: On Formal Education

"A complete lack of caution is perhaps one of the true signs of a real gourmet: he has no need for it, being filled with it as he is with a God-given and intelligently self-cultivated sense of gastronomical freedom." M. F. K. Fisher

After 20 years of growth and evolution, I was fortunate enough to discover a passion that has stuck with me for over two years now. At an age notorious for perpetual uncertainty, I am completely amazed at the calm assurance cooking has provided me. Many of my peers have questioned my lack of desire to attend culinary school, and although I have always intrinsically known that formal culinary education was not for me, personal reflection was required to comprehend exactly why that was: I am afraid to lose my freedom.

Since the beginning of my culinary journey, I have taken it upon myself to optimize each of the resources around me, and through these outlets, I have managed to make an incredible amount of progress. I have immensely enjoyed the bottom-up approach and the slow climb I am on has been nothing but enjoyable. I have appreciated failing often and maximizing all opportunities for self-education as they present themselves. Were I formally educated, I fear I would be deprived of my inclination to experimentation, which would threaten the existence of purpose in my adventure. I cherish the hope that technique will never impede my "gastronomical freedom" and cause me to stop creating and cooking truly from the heart.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

"Western Spaghetti" by PES

Apparently this was the original in PES's food series, but I just happened to stumble upon "Fresh Guacamole" first. Each is equally tantalizing in its own regard.



"Western Spaghetti" by PES

"Fresh Guacamole" by PES

I intend to make some sort of food-related post every day to my new blog here, whether it be a restaurant review, a personal cooking experience, a chronicle of my day in the food industry, or in this case, something for which I have a newfound appreciation: stop-motion film making. This particular film-maker is called PES, and his work is awe-inspiring. I, of course, am particularly mesmerized by the food-related videos, one of which you will find here. PREPARE TO BE AMAZED!



"Fresh Guacamole" by PES

Monday, March 19, 2012

Restaurant Review: Dough Pizzeria Napoletana

San Antonio is generally the type of place that I try to avoid. I tend not to favor enormously spread out, industrial, and vastly boring cities, and when forced to be in such a place, I'd like to think that I'd seek out the cultural centers, the people at the heart of the history. San Antonio being what it is, a largely Hispanic, over-industrialized, money hub, I figured I'd be hard-pressed to find a delicious, authentic Italian pizzeria in the midst of all the mess. But after experiencing the luscious flavor that is Dough Pizzeria, I have to admit that I'd consider making the numbing hour and a half drive to eat that food again! And again, and again...and again.

At first glance, I was unsure of the place. The patio, where I ultimately ended up planting myself, faces an atmosphere-killing concrete parking lot and a Denny's that left me wishing more than ever for one of those quaint Italian streets I've seen only on television. And yet all of my fears were calmed the moment I walked into the restaurant itself. To my left stood a wall covered in fine wines, accompanied by a young, aproned man on a ladder, searching for the perfect bottle for the couple below. Directly in front of me burned the magnificent wood-fired pizza oven and its 3 or 4 skilled operators. I could not have been more assured at that moment that I was about to experience one of the best Italian meals possible in the States.

My meal began better than I could have ever imagined. The service was impeccable and the waiter, extensively knowledgeable about the product he was pushing. The first course consisted of a dish I would devour every single day were I afforded the opportunity. The flavors were mild, and yet insanely intimate.  This appetizer of cheese and tomatoes seemed so simple, but I am aware of the skill required to prepare it. My taste buds were fortunate enough to enjoy for this course a water-stretched mozzarella, encasing a ball of what seemed to be mozzarella curds. On top of the stretched mozzarella was spread an indescribably delicious, house-made basil pesto. The magnificent ball was surrounded by a sea of perfectly ripened baby heirloom tomatoes, and the whole display was drizzled with a divine balsamic reduction that really drew the whole course together for me. Of course the dish wouldn't be complete without the garlicky, herb-spiked flat bread, used as a vehicle to enjoy all of the components in a single explosive bite. Had I been in the privacy of my own home, I probably would have licked the plate clean, but under the circumstances I just sat patiently awaiting the 2 pizzas that were headed my way. 


The pizzas at Dough have won awards in the past, and the pizzeria has been featured on the Food Network so I knew I'd be pleased, but I never could have anticipated the intense flavor ecstasy I was about to experience. The flat-bread like crust is hand-tossed and cooked in less than 90 seconds in an authentic wood-fired oven that was shipped directly from Italy. Only the finest ingredients are used to top these perfect pizzas, and many of them are imported from the motherland as well. The tomato sauce is simply seasoned and clearly crafted by someone who respects the integrity of traditional Italian marinara. At employee recommendation, I ordered the Margherita STG and the Pork Love with oak-roasted mushrooms added. I am a spice fiend, so to half of the STG, I added some rare imported Calabrian chiles, which by the way, I haven't been able to find anything about in all of my research! I must find them, seeing as they are absolutely one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted! I dug into the Pork Love first and immediately fell head over heels for this pork smothered pizza. I was pleased to have the earthy tones from the mushrooms to help break up the richness of the meats as well. You can truly taste the superiority of these ingredients with every wonderful bite. 

Now the Margherita STG was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The "STG" (specialità tradizionale garantita) signifies that the pizza has been certified authentic, in its ingredients and preparation, according to EU regulations. These people do not mess around with their pizza, and it certainly shows. I was afraid that I would offend when I bit into the simple pizza. Normally I enjoy foods with more complex flavor profiles and fail to appreciate foods with just a few ingredients, but as soon as I sunk my teeth into lady Margherita, I knew it was because I had never experienced food like this before. As I've already noted, the sauce was perfectly simplistic and clearly honored the beauty and freshness of the tomatoes themselves. Melted beautifully over the sauce was mozzarella di bufala (mozzarella made from the milk of water buffalo), and resting delicately on top were startlingly fresh leaves of lightly wilted basil. This pizza hit me in the mouth with an immediate understanding of what it meant to let great ingredients speak for themselves. I was in heaven and found myself completely amazed when I devoured a slice with those Calabrian chiles and found my experience heightened even further. I have to find a way to get my hands on these things! Up front they hit you with the sort of sweet heat you'd expect from any good pepper, and they finish with that delicious saltiness that comes from expert pickling. That pizza simply could not have been better for me, and I am already making plans to get back to San Antonio just to make my taste buds dance like that again. 


My perfect meal here closed with a super sweet panna cotta, surrounded by rehydrated raisins and topped with a drizzle of liquidy caramel. When I was through with this incredible meal, I sat with a huge smile on my face just taking it all in. I believe this has to be the first meal I've had that has caused me to reflect on what had transpired in my mouth, my stomach, and my heart. Dough Pizzeria served me a meal that has changed my expectations and raised the bar for the food in my life. I can't wait to go back!