We know more than we thought we did?

Last weekend, I met up with Hank, who was in the Yard for a quiz bowl tournament. I was able to stick around to watch one of the rounds, and was proud that I recognized the plot of Fargo without ever having seen it (Minnesota, represent!). I became even more elated when I recognized Anthony Bourdain from various quotes, before the "clincher hint" that referenced his television show and book of the same name, Kitchen Confidential.

After dinner, I tagged along with him and a few of his teammates for dinner. Apparently all restaurants in Harvard Square are crowded at 8 pm on Saturday nights, or the influx of high school debaters (and coaches) that weekend just decided to fill up all the seats there (and those visiting prefrosh at Annenberg). After checking out Le's, Uno's, and Bartley's (still taking orders in a twenty-person line outside!), we settled on Bertucci's for the legit pizza and the free bread.

But Bertucci's was no exception to the horrors of a dinner line. When we asked for the wait, we were told "typically twenty-five minutes, but thirty-five for all of you" - which makes sense because we weren't the only seven-person group queuing up. So it was a long wait which became equally ridiculous when we realized that a) they only had one large-sized table, b) that thirty-five minute wait approached fifty-five minutes, and c) the servers told us that "we're running out of chairs" and couldn't put a spare chair up against a booth.

Service was fairly prompt - for having to deal with seven starving students who had to wait that long - although somewhat disparate; one waiter was significantly more helpful than the other. Good, but not ridiculously delicious, Bertucci's appeal lies in the free bread - hot, soft and not doughy with a crunchy crust - and the consistency of the food (although the tomato sauce is a little thin, the pizza crust was remarkably similar to the bread - which was a good thing).

The best part of the meal: not having to figure out how much to pay or how to calculate tip with six MIT students around - three of them who were math majors. Whew.

"Would you like some cheese with that whine?"

I just got back from breakfast (late enough for you to say, "brunch?") and wanted to report on the ham and artichoke pizza.

Because I'm just that tireless.

But really, I was pleasantly surprised to find hot food in Annenberg past ten, when it starts getting shuffled away. That said, it looked they had a sufficient amount of leftovers to keep it going.

That's a surprise, because there were three pans of pizza left (one entirely full; two halfway-taken - one for each line), and the pizza definitely beat the greasy mushroom-and-cheese frittata that we have every two weeks. Or the vegetable omelette, made with dehydrated broccoli that necesitates the Heimlich. Or even today's meal, which seemed to be an open-faced egg sandwich (though it looked like another sleeper hit that I didn't try - there were only two left).

And that's where the pro of Annenberg is: the square pizzas. By consensus, this might be the epitome of an Annenberg meal...especially when served with tatortots. The flavor is great - the Margherita adaptation features fairly tender tomatoes, although I wish there were more of a basil presence. The vegetable pizza features seemingly-roasted peppers, tomato and squash, while the ham-and-artichoke is flavorful without being too salty. All three pizzas share a good balance of herbage (not to be confused with pwnage) as well as bite-sized, diced toppings (so I don't have to try to take down that two-foot-long green pepper ring in one bite). The whole wheat crust (like an upgraded pita - at times the crust of the pizza can be too hard, even though the center is undercooked) allows for the rationalization that the pizza is healthy.

But don't get me talking about the round pizzas, actually - well, too late now.

Although bacon-and-spinach or pepper-and-onion are actually great topping combinations, it's the cheese that's the problem on these round pizzas. So...let's reminisce about junior high, when the pizza came fast and greasy and everyone would take a one-inch stack of cheap, tiny-sized napkins to wipe (or dab, in a few cases) it off. The girls would scream in a coo about how gross it was, and the guys would probably have thrown the desecrated napkins at each other by the end of lunch. I don't really do that anymore - and really, the Annenberg pizzas are so healthy that you don't need to.

But the cheese on the round pizzas is white-colored, not because mozzarella is naturally white, but because it's been undercooked. It's clammy-textured and yet barely warm; in fact, the cheese hasn't really interacted with the actual pizza part and so it's like eating crust with good toppings and this random chunk of cheese hanging on top. Dannng.

I didn't really have to deal with that today (or yesterday), but I certainly thought about it a lot. My tip is that you cover up the cheese (or actually remove it if you weren't a fan to begin with) with more red pepper and oregano (that's grilled cheese spiking, by the way). Or just get the square pizza in the first place.

[P.S. My roommate reminds me to say that "the bananas today were beautiful."]