Showing posts with label Pizza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pizza. Show all posts

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Mi Piace Trattoria Gourmet

The word Trattoria can be one tricky fellow for those whose Italian vocabulary is limited to panini and gelato. The hypotheses of the weary and trying hard can range from “traitor” to an anagram of “Tori Amos”.  Either answer is obviously more misleading than the previous, which leads to consulting the handy master, Google.

Turns out, Trattoria is simply translated as “little Italian restaurant”. No need for Boggle skills, which I fail miserably at in the first place.

In Manila, there’s this Trattoria Gourmet in Shangri-La Mall, which reflects the proper translation. Only difference is that it engages more in commerce and less in village-people-get-together tavern behavior where take home is common. Sure, in the Philippines take home is just as acceptable when visiting villages, but in Trattoria Gourmet—respectable restaurant and retail business that would like to make a proper living—no take home, containers or spilling alfredo inside well hidden lunch boxes. Let us do our part in preserving cleanliness of our surroundings and not screwing with its real income return.

Trattoria Gourmet serves eat-all-you-can dishes on a daily basis, and that eat-all-you-can salad and soup combo makes a pretty good target for vegetarians, South Beachers and prim old ladies. I would have to fall under the first category.

The Sunday buffet includes that lush salad bar with 6 types of dressings (I remember herb vinaigrette, balsamic vinaigrette, garlic something, low cal italian dressing and 2 more) with quite a spread of of toppings, one visit is never enough.

The ubiquitous Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, carrot strips, mushrooms, cheese, egg, olives form the spread but there are also the strange visitors (strange since I do not make the habit of placing them on my plate): raisins, corn, green gulaman, turnips, and pineapples (which I had for dessert instead).

 

Ready-to-eat Potato and macaroni salad are also served for the lazy, and there is also that Penne Pesto salad which deserved a scoop every time I visited the salad bar. It was that magnificent that foregoing the actual pasta selection was of no regret to me.

 

 

The soup section offers 2 variants in steaming vessels, even soup haters would have to try at least a teaspoon of their luscious concoctions. The Creamy Asparagus seemed all right, so I moved on to the more enticing catch: Mushroom Soup!

The mushroom soup was clear-brown with grand bits of oyster mushrooms swimming at the bottom. Scoop them out and find yourself in shroom heaven. I had two bowls, enough said.

The soup actually goes well with the house appetizer, which was lovingly prepared and presented, we jsut had to finish the entire display, as courtesy to the host.

Pasta dishes available were the usual favorites for the local folks: Alfredo and Bolognese.

Having passed up the pasta and pizza buffet, it seemed that the Bolognese was the better choice. Meaty and al dente, numerous diners did return for seconds (or thirds), while the alfredo seemed to be its buttery and bland companion.

 

The pizza served included Margherita and Pepperoni. Rather minimalist in toppings and size, the flavor made up for this seeming deficiency. Especially when freshly baked, the pizza still brings in much love from the Italian oven compared to other local counterparts.

[caption id="attachment_2247" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Note: Pizza embellished with pasta bar toppings[/caption]

The Trattoria Gourmet Sunday Buffet was a grand trip to Italian gourmet excellence. There was no need for 10 more dishes or a smorgasbord of items we could not pronounce or better yet, not have the chance to eat.

Minimalism was the key in getting us to enjoy the feast, and not really waste our time wandering and walking into areas of less interest. If all buffet set-ups were this friendly and well stocked up, then everyone would be happy and sipping wine on the side. No tempura banters or fighting over fried rice.

Just wondering how they got to make their pesto that bene.

Other than that slight hitch, Non mi posso lamentare. ("I can't complain.")

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Piadina and Pariahs

As a newly baptized pariah of Philippine society, it was fitting to dine in a place of childhood comfort where our wallet size was always welcome: Piadina. McDonald's and Coffee Experience nearly made it to the list but then again, cushioned seats were mandated that day. Last time I ate in Piadina was probably a decade ago, and last time I fully enjoyed Robinson’s Galleria, I was still sporting my Goldilocks high school uniform in a sleek bob. So 90s.


With flare jeans memories flooding my vision, you might call it blast from the past, though I’d prefer pariah on a budget—and a bit lost on the side. That Robinson’s Galleria Veranda required crossing the street, while my old-time favorite apple pie and St. Cinnamon have succumbed to the decade 2000’s advancement to gelato and anything red velvet.



And so, if there’s anything left from the quaint past, it’d be Piadina. Plus points for being empty on a Saturday. Lunch time. Sale day. Come to think of it, where are the people? Is this the new after life? Oh right, they’re looking for Mang Inasal.


Piadina used to be our destination of choice because of its piadina-pasta meals which were innovative back then, and cheap on the side. Having Italian food for such pocket-friendly price was quite the attraction, and the thought of eating at Piadina (back then, I repeat) sounded rather sophisticated, unfamiliar folks might as well thought we had lunch in the hills of Sicily.


[caption id="attachment_2200" align="aligncenter" width="491"] Warning: These are not tofu orbs.[/caption]


Of course moving to the present these unabashed thoughts seem rather unfounded.


A decade smarter and heavier, it seems that the Piadina references to Italy were liberally granted and being a conservative, I would like to paraphrase my adolescent mumbling. Piadina is still that Italian restaurant that wishes you “God bless!” upon your exit. Why they do that, it must be a call for glad tidings or a possible return. I’m banking on the latter because based on my 2012 experience, Piadina can certainly improve on its dishes, to at least reflect its ambience and colorful menu. True, the place continues to offer meals at affordable prices, but as for taste, I suppose Michael Corleone would on a spontaneous shooting spree once he gets a bite of anything from here.



The Pasta Cabrese lacks the flavor of anything under the bright Tuscan sun. While oil based, it could still benefit from the collective flavor of the garlic and anchovies, but I received nothing gastronomically satisfying, not even after shaking half the contents of the parmesan cheese. If it wasn’t for the broccoli, this pariah would’ve been a reincarnation of one angry and hungry consigliere.



The Margherita Pizza looked stunning upon delivery, with the waft of freshly baked ingredients and the promise of that delightful Piadina crust. While the flavor was excellent—after all it was just cheese and basil—the crust was on the tough side. Being tough is a good thing for a person, but for pizza crust/dough, it doesn’t go well, especially when there’s no olive oil-balsamic vinegar dip to dunk that chunk of rock.


As a precaution to those with dentures or use Sensodyne, the pizza is not for you. If you insist on it though, do share it with someone. Don’t hog it all to yourself or you’ll find yourself drinking your Sensodyne the next time around.



The Baked Chicken meal came with rice and a wee scoop of vegetables that looked like cafeteria cooking. Mediocre was the order of the day, and it looked more like a normal rice meal than a serving of Italian-inspired pollo. It’s probably their way of saying, Piadina is our specialty so it’s the only food we got right. Live with it.


But wait, isn’t the pizza also Piadina-based?


Ah well, it’s best that I end this harangue before I get banned from Galleria, my once second home and haven for the giggly Goldilocks girls.


Piadina doesn’t claim to be gourmet par excellence, just an Italian joint for the economically challenged. It is highly possible that my menu selection is flawed and their Pasta Vongole or actual Piadina do taste sublime.


After all they’ve been in that same spot for years, so there must be a sensible reason for that longevity. Outliving Las Paellas and Chef d’ Angelo, Piadina’s secret recipe might remain a secret from me, but not for the people (Who are you?) who dine there. I may not have seen you, but you probably exist under the tables or belong to the next shift.


My 2012 Piadina experience may have been quite the letdown, but visiting Robinson’s Galleria will always be a reminiscent escapade.


From yesteryear’s yellow uniform to today’s pariah, it has always turned a blind eye on our dirty deeds. And so I return the favor to Piadina: God bless!

Sunday, May 13, 2012

S&R Splurge

If there's one thing we don't do at S&R, it's shop. Well yeah, we buy chips and drinks once in a while, but if the S&R guys were to carefully plot our visits and purchases, they would find the strangest consumer item of preference: Pizza.


While we've been celebrating pizza nights at S&R for ages, which is highly possible with cheese, combo, pepperoni, shrimp and the seasonal barbecue chicken as rotating flavors, there is no such thing as getting "sick" of the place. With calzone and fries in the roster, it's a place we might as well call our second home.


The cheese pizza on its own is screaming with golden cheesy sheen while the garlic and shrimp is seafood splendor that escalates it to my "craving" level.


Innovation is highly encouraged for those who want a poutine-inspired masterpiece. Fries on pizza, why not? I'm not as adventurous, and would just prefer to smother my slice with mustard and onions (which does not make a pretty photo, I tell you).




[caption id="attachment_1834" align="aligncenter" width="512"] Someone's hungry: Fries-topped Pizza[/caption]

I've skipped the burgers and hotdogs phase, being an all-year Lenten diner, but with churros, fries and chicken rolls on the list, the place is becoming a better-than-fastfood joint. Heck, they've even got a sandwich bar and ice cream station (It's Blue Bunny, so beat that) which recently added shakes and pastries on the chiller. Fabulous.




[caption id="attachment_1833" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Shrimp Salad with onions on the side[/caption]

What makes me doubly pleased is the addition of salad in their menu. While the Chicken Caesar Salad was a giant bowl of veggie delight (all great, except for the dressing), the Shrimp Salad was absolute enjoyment. A bit smaller in serving with about 6-8 shrimps, the salad is gratifying and amazingly improved by that wee slice of lemon. Refreshing, light and certainly agreeable even to the anti-vegetables, it makes a great siding to the hungry and a perfect meal to those like me - who consider dessert as part of the meal!


Dessert time meant visiting the actual store and raiding the chiller for something to-go worthy. 




[caption id="attachment_1836" align="aligncenter" width="461"] Move over, Blue Bunny. Make way for Mudslide.[/caption]

The choice was terrific: Tillamook Mudslide. Chunky chocolate swirls circled creamy chocolate ice cream. Forget EQ; despite its partially melted state, my mind urged me to dig in, and I did. No manners, no civilized utensils. All was forgiven in the presence of this dandy dessert.




[caption id="attachment_1835" align="aligncenter" width="461"] Better start calling it (melted) Chocolate Fudge Ripple.[/caption]

While it wasn't a 100% mudslide, as I was looking for a hint of coffee, it was a perfect fudgy treat. More of a Chocolate Fudge Ripple. Now that's more like it.


Next time we ought to try its Vanilla Flavor, unless S&R decides to re-stock on Klondike.


If that's the case, bring out the coin.

Monday, April 9, 2012

West Coast Series: The Real Meals

Forget the greens, salsa and vinaigrette which were so last post (West Coast Series: Salads and Sweets), you’d think I’ve gone all Bugs Bunny on you. Truth is, it’s time to cast off the pretension and start focusing on the “real” food—the full courses, carbs and that thing we call a proper meal.


"I'll pass" is something unheard of in the sight of these almighty meals, while starvation, a word only concocted by activists - an institution that will never accept me for my lack of shouting intensity.


Once in the West Coast, the best thing to do is take a seat, eat and forget all about it. After all, what happens in the West, stays in the West!


Not to be left behind though are the photos (and proof) of those outlandish and sizzling moments that always ended with that blissful burp. The burgers were not mine, but were just as irresistible to shoot!


Bon appetit! Or should I say, more appropriately: DIG IN!




[caption id="attachment_1649" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Fish Tacos, Tacos Mexico"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1647" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Philly Cheesesteak, Charley's"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1650" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Tuna Salad Sandwich with Pickled Red Onions, International Cafe, Universal Studios"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1651" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Pad Thai, Thai Kitchen"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1645" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Spinach, Mushroom and Tomato Pizza, Bonnano's, MGM Hotel"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1652" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Spinach and Broccoli Stuffed Pizza, Sbarro"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1654" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="My Mexican Salad Platter, Spice Market Buffet"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1655" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Seafood Selection, Spice Market Buffet"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1653" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="My Dainty Dessert Portion, Spice Market Buffet"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1646" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Buckwheat Noodles, Asian Grocery"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1644" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Spinach and Artichoke Dip, Applebee's"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1643" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Blackened Chicken Penne, Applebee's"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1648" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Cheeseburgers, In-and-Out Burger"][/caption]

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Wednesday Midnight Snack @ Mercato

Being a day person, I never quite appreciated the notion of the Midnight Market and found nighttime snacking a rather pesky calorie loading experience. All these negative sentiments have been wiped off my consciousness as last Wednesday, bearing an evening hunger not even Jamba Juice could solve, we were left stranded in this remote place we call Bonifacio High Street.




[caption id="attachment_1516" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Nocturnal Snackers at Mercato Centrale"][/caption]

Good thing free wifi led one thing to another and finally we found ourselves at the launch of the Wednesday Midnight Mercato. It will probably be hard to believe, but this accidental journey marked the climax of the day (or night), hands down.


While I’ve maxed out on my daily sugar, written off my list, in the meantime, were Mochiko, Med Chef, and a host of cakes, sweets and shakes that would just do nothing but infuriate my raging insomnia.


I spied deep dish pizza with all sorts of meat, all-cheese and what seemed to be shrimp toppings. Unfortunately smacked in the center were ham and pepperoni, so off I went to search for the anti-thesis of animal fat or my inner PETA might have exploded in front of the poor vendor.


Spotted was a rather appetizing Mexican joint (pardon my lack of name recall, it was past my bedtime), but we found the quesadilla serving a bit pequeno for my appetite. Another spot had shabu-shabu and balls, but then I felt like dining on cheesy-salty, not Oriental-salty. Burgers and bagnet were also abound, but my carnivore of a father did not feel like dining amidst the smoky atmosphere.




[caption id="attachment_1513" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Panzarotti"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1514" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Panzarottis in a Row"][/caption]

Finally, drawn to the Italian flag which most likely signaled—what else but—Italian food, we ventured to the Panzarotti stall with the hope of finding pesto, ravioli or anything that remotely rhymed with cannelloni. What we unearthed was tat strangely named foot item, the Panzarotti, a calzone-like fried pizza that was craftily shaped to resemble an empanada. Too long for words, it was best to just leave its name as it was.




[caption id="attachment_1515" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Margherita"][/caption]

Four flavors were offered but only one made it to my vegetarian cut, the Margherita. Fried on the spot and topped with Arugula and alfalfa sprouts, it was a cousin to the panizza, dipped win tomato sauce and enjoyed with toothpicks. Like a picnic at the park, or more or in a hazy tent, it was an enjoyable and filling P100 that I enjoyed eating with tissue; well, the toothpicks broke upon contact. Filling yet not that disastrously doughy, it made a reasonably good pretext to have pizza as a pre-midnight snack.


While returning to Wednesday Mercato may not be likely in the near future, I savored the moment it saved me from starvation and provided a light at the end of the road (literally) that evening.


Should I get stranded in the BGC area again, I will make sure it happens on a Wednesday evening. And yes, I will surely  get a green tea mochi this time.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Papa John's: Papa Mia!


Rather than get held at gunpoint by Papa John and his pizza cosca, it was time for us to visit his joint and try out his so-called legendary pan pizza. No need for violence or horse heads, capo. With the green and red logo that is so hard to miss, even the color blind would find his way to Papa John's welcoming doorstep.



Papa John's (SM North) is bustling with red, bricks, and seemingly normal folks. Devoid of Buon apetito crewmen and Can-I-get-yer-order? gum-chewing waitresses, I inspected our salt and pepper shakers in the last effort at protection and preserving my life. Just plain salt and pepper. Check. Now that it's been settled, let the real Buon apetito begin!




While there was no actual Papa John to take our order, at least he was plastered on the walls—a very fit and trim Papa John—and will be dining with us in spirit.


The menu is fraught with choices that would boggle the simple-minded: pan pizza or thin, tick or tin (“thick or thin” pardon our waiter's slang), spaghetti or penne? I half expected milk or creamer, yin or yang, life or death—but good thing the questionnaire stuck to food-related inquiries, as we were really on the verge of attacking the open windowed kitchen with our salt and pepper shakers.




[caption id="attachment_1448" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Cheese Sticks"][/caption]

Cheese Sticks


The name is a misnomer, and even a child could point that out. Sticks ought to be thin and pointy; while this one is flat and round. If the waiter hadn’t chirpily announced the coming of the “cheese sticks” I’d swear he served us a complimentary kid’s meal. I would like to rename this dish, small cheese pizza. As for the taste—no need to get all creative—it tastes like a small cheese pizza. Next!




[caption id="attachment_1442" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Arrabbiata"][/caption]

Arrabiata Pasta


The pasta came in a small bowl that is better fitted to feed Bambino John. With this serving size, we will need to order at least 3 bowls to get my family back to sanity—and with no bread rolls on the side, this lack of carbs is the surefire way to whack my family, no guns necessary. The Arrabbiata sauce was peppered with tomato and black olive bits to complement the fresh-tasting sauce. At least by Papa John’s standards, this makes the cut.




[caption id="attachment_1447" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Diablo Burst"][/caption]

Diablo Burst Pasta


The Diablo Burst came in the same signature bambino bowl, but we’ve gotten used this level of serving already, so there was no need to get all, “Papa mia!” With its sausage component, it was off limits my plate. However, my borgata claims that it was the meat-infused sauce that made it more appealing and delectable. Too hot for their taste buds though, they wish that in the same milk tea fashion, the level for spiciness could be predetermined by diner. Oh and that shrimps would replace the sausage; after all, doesn’t this dish normally go by the name Shrimp Diablo?




[caption id="attachment_1444" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Fisherman's Catch Pizza"][/caption]

Fisherman’s Catch Pizza, Thin Crust


Blame my less-carbs-is-best mantra for ordering thin crust, when thick crust happens to be the house specialty. What we got was the phyllo-slender crust that would get every male on the planet dizzy with hunger, and with just enough energy to give me the finger.




[caption id="attachment_1443" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Jalapeno and Butter"][/caption]

The pizzas arrived with 2 bowls of garlic butter and 2 pieces of jalapeno chilis as dip/toppings for the pizza. While these are not enough to alleviate hunger, they at least add to the flavor and cholesterol level, as if the buttered up crust isn’t grease stricken enough.


The pizzas are brushed with what seems to be layers of butter to create that glowing and juicy effect, once served on the table. It’s not enough that we get steaming fresh-from-the-oven pizzas, the shimmering look is just as mandatory for those who want to end up like Super Mario. I’ve always wanted to be Luigi, so I dabbed my pizza slices when no one was looking—busted though once they tidied my plate and uncovered yellow tissue papers. Gross, I know.


Back to the pizza. The Fisherman’s Catch is obviously Papa John’s pizza tribute to the pescatorian with squid, minute shrimps, green pepper and this interestingly named garlic sauce. The mozzarella cheese is rather thickly spread, to my delight, but its suspicious gleam demanded closer inspection—ah yes, it was the garlic butter all along! With the lack of a proper pizza sauce to balance the saltiness (don't bother looking for anchovies because there aren't any), it’s best to call this the salty pizza. Again, I’m not being creative anymore since. After all, this one ain’t a catch.




[caption id="attachment_1445" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="All Meats Pizza"][/caption]

All Meats Pizza, Thick Crust


This pizza happens to be the anti-thesis of the Fisherman’s Catch in Phyllo-butter crust. The meat content is enough to battle out even the deepest of all hungers, while the hand tossed crust is baked golden but not glistening with butter. While I never felt the temptation to pluck a piece of pepperoni—which is bad manners, by the way—I watched in awe as the meat eating bunch ate in peace and harmony. No complaints about bread rolls or dripping grease, just pure carnivorous dining bliss.


As we finished our meal, it was gratifying to know that there was a chance of leaving the place with all our limbs intact. They stuffed us silly though—all those carb dishes and only a few strips of green pepper I could call my vegetable serving. At least I was alive and breathing, and only needed a cup of tea to regain my slumbering arteries.


While the hungry and very hungry will definitely come back for more dough-oriented dishes and crusts, there are those who could do with less grease (me!) and bigger pasta servings (me!).


What I would like to now though is: How does Papa John stay slim, with all that butter in his pantry? 


I’m dying to know.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Pasta Tripping: Cibo

Whenever I suggest eating at Cibo to some folks, they just have a cunning way of changing the topic or pretending that I was speaking on mute mode.


Whatever the reason is, I've figured out that they would rather dunk their Chicken McNuggets in BBQ sauce than dunk their bread in EVOO + balsamic vinegar, but I cannot give in to the triumph of fast food. Fast food and cheap restaurants have created that niche we call pasta abomination, and for that, I cannot forgive you that easily. For an industry that has given rise to soggy pasta, fake parmesan cheese, vegetable oil pesto, carbonara made of cream, sweet spaghetti and worst of all, sweet spaghetti with hotdog, you should surrender to the Italian police.


End these food crimes, and stop feeding us MSG and week-old noodles. If I wanted something soft, I'd have gone for mashed potatoes. And if I wanted hotdogs, I would've gone to a ball game!


Unfortunately I live in Quezon City, not Sicily, so I have to make do with what's around. Landing in Trinoma one Saturday, hungry and deprived of nutrients, we decided to visit the least visited place where we knew no lines existed: CIBO. I thought of just ordering a salad, but when I realized my need for sustenance, the carbs suddenly popped out of the menu. Actually it was more of pleading, and I was more than happy to oblige.


Pasta violations are certainly banned from the confines of Cibo, as we are assured of al dente pasta and real parmesan cheese. There is also an abundant supply of balsamic vinegar, extra virgin olive oil and chili. In here, we are shielded from the dangers of vegetable cooking oil and Eden cheese, and if espresso were as cheap as tea, I believe they'd serve house espresso as well.



Spaghettini Estivi

The Spaghetti Estivi falls under the vegetarian portion with its minimalist content: arugula and fresh tomatoes. Majority of the people I know would probably hate it and go for a McSpaghetti, but I would prefer this light dish. It veers from the sour-canned-tomato taste and relies on the fresh flavor of the tomatoes and garlic. Actually it was a bit too light for my abysmal appetite, but I feared that ordering a family serving might warrant stares from the waiters. Again. For fear of another public debacle, I've decided to go with this bambino serving and hope the pizza could fill the hunger void.



Linguine il Giallo

I will never understand why my hermano went for the Linguine il Giallo as this is one of those dishes that my eyes skip in the menu and pretend never existed. If people would ignore my Spaghetti Estivi, they would question this squash flower - anchovy cream pasta. When his order came, I didn't even have the sibling temptation to fork out a noodle. I just stared as he ate his meal sans the parmesan, claiming that the anchovy made it salty enough. While he seemingly enjoyed another light dish, it was not that extraordinary. I suppose with squash flowers as the highlight of the dish, we shouldn't really expect an ooh-la-la frenzy, just "I had my vegetable serving from this meal. Great, on to the pizza."



Zuchinne Pizza

It doesn't take a bambino to figure out that this pizza's main man is the zucchini (plus, it's got goat cheese). Now if you don't know what zucchini is, then you're better off having that McSpaghetti with Hamburglar. Off with you! For those who do not only know zucchini, but like it as well, then join the club. This pizza's the perfect partner for the pasta, plus the crust is unbelievably crisp, you'd want to dunk it on EVOO and balsamic vinegar and finish it off until the crust. There is no overbearing flavor or that doughy attitude we hate from commercial pizzas, this one's straight from the Italian oven and deserves one grande burp! 


When another pasta fest will be, only my wallet could tell. Where it would be, there's a chance it'll be at Cibo.


I'll squash anyone who orders the squash flowers though.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Pizza Hut Goes Thin with the Tuscani


Filipinos are renowned for their peculiar dreams and outlandish ambitions: from winning a beauty pageant, being hailed as the next Pacman, becoming a Youtube sensation—to the slightly mundane: climbing Mount Everest, winning at Dragonboat racing and becoming the bigwig nurse in Europe or Canada. All these are quite possible really, this Pinoy Dream, as exemplified by our too-many-to-mention successful kababayan. Even I’m no exception to this Pinoy I-can-do-anything mindset—though perhaps I’d have to fall under the “what-is-she-thinking, this strange girl” dream category.


My aspirations are quite simple, really, since someone already beat me to landing on the moon and designing the ipod. And even inventing milk tea, unbelievable! All I want to do are write, shop, dine and enjoy life! Oh, and visit Italy!


So I guess the “visit Italy” part may be on the long-term scale, but hey, I’m still going for it. How can we not resist Italy, the bastion of world history, culture and food? I grew up eating pizza and pasta, knowing the difference between penne and ravioli and upholding the discrimination between al dente and just plain soggy. There is no way I can proceed with life without having eaten an authentic gourmet pizza straight from the ovens of Italy—that’s my gastronomic wish and lifetime quest.


Unknown to me, this wish would be granted rather pronto, without having to leave our tropical country or even pack an overnight bag. Right under this famous hut that is known for pan pizzas, there they served thin crust, gourmet pizza otherwise known as the Tuscani. That’s Tuscani with an “I” not the “Y” because we’re not talking about Italy, but rather Pizza Hut’s line of gourmet pizza right here in the Philippines.


 


Who needs to travel abroad when I can get a slice of gourmet goodness a few minutes from home or from dialing 911-1111? With five grandioso flavors to choose from—Supremo, All Meat, Roast Beef, 2 Cheese Bacon and Spinach and BBQ Chicken—my heart immediately went “Ti amo!” to the pollo (chicken). The Tuscani BBQ Chicken was graciously smothered with barbecue sauce, while the toppings—cheese, onions, green pepper and chunks of chicken—were generously spread. It was certainly deliziossisima (delicious to the highest level), and I never even knew how to speak Italian before this encounter. The barbecue sauce was pleasantly sweet and highly savory on account of the thin crust, and no flavor was left ignored. The swirling images of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the farmlands of Tuscany and freshly picked olives and grapes immediately came to mind, and I knew this was as close to Italy as I could get, as I savored every chewing moment.





For sure, the Tuscani pizza is un dono del cielo (a gift from the Heavens). I may not end up as Ms. Earth or the Marathoner of the Year, but at least I got a taste of the divine. I got what I wanted, my Italian Escapade, all thanks to the Tuscani pizza.


Grazie, Tuscani!