A Pizza Discourse

I've lived here for 10 years and just had my first Abby's pizza, it's a chain here in Oregon and Washington.  Rarely allowing myself the luxury of such a splurge, from time to time I'd try a pie from this-cheap-chain-or-that, with disappointing results.  Fast food just doesn't seem to be as good as I remember.  I did find a nice lunch-combo for $5.00 in Incline Village, Lake Tahoe, but that's hardly handy.

I miss New York-style pizzas: thin-crusted; hot, stretchy, burn the roof of your mouth cheese; grease sitting in puddles on the pie, which some damp up with a paper napkin but purists like me imbibe every drop.  Um.

My psyche needed a fix so I decided to give Abby's a try.  It was recently purchased by another company so before it changes, they always do.

Pepperoni and jalapeños, loads of 'em; makes you want to yell, Come on, ice cream! the next morning.  It wasn't bad; wasn't close to NY but a good NW pie.  But when the gal brought out the order she had a bag on top of the box.

"That can't be mine...I only ordered one thing."

"It's the Ranch dressing. We forgot to ask what you wanted so I took a chance and picked our Original."

I didn't ask, but what's the Ranch for? I assumed it was an Abby's thing until I saw that Progressive State Farm commercial for the umpteenth time, when the red-shirted guy gets an unexpected pizza delivery, including a 'Side of Ranch'.

Hey, ranch dressing like Abby's, but why? Then I remembered their online menu with all kinds of bizarre pie combinations, including shrimp, artichokes, spinach, red peppers and pineapple, why order a pizza?

To me that's comparable to ordering an Italian sub and being asked if I want Swiss cheese, for God's sake.

The pizza was good enough for me to order a smaller one yesterday, No ranch, thanks.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  He really enjoyed a good pie, too.
Photo: Dad in the 1970s, with grandsons Christopher and Scott.